


Equality vs. Solidarity

by rmxzuko



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmxzuko/pseuds/rmxzuko
Summary: After he stands up for the rights of nonbenders at his school, 15-year-old Bumi becomes a hero for the nascent Equalist movement, whose message he quickly embraces. When the Equalists come for Bumi's family, though, he's forced to choose between a cause he supports and his family. Which will he defend? (Takes place 5-8 months after the events in A Forced Vacation.)
Relationships: Aang & Bumi II, Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bumi II & Katara, Bumi II & Kya II & Tenzin (Avatar)
Kudos: 49





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I originally published this on fanfiction.net in July 2017, but if I dated this piece accurately, no one would ever find it, so a new publication date it is! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"I'm here! I'm here!" I announce, running into the dining room, where my parents and siblings are all sitting at the table, waiting—presumably—for me, the plates in front of them still untouched. "I'm sorry I'm late," I apologize. I bow respectfully to my parents, then drop my backpack on the floor and sit down next to Tenzin.

"Why are you late, Bumi?" Mom queries as she serves me my dinner. We're having five-flavor soup, a typical Water Tribe dish, and vegetable dumplings, a typical Air Nomad dish, for dinner tonight.

I accept the food with an appreciative nod, then frown. "I got in trouble and had to stay after school," I answer.

"Did you get in a fight again?" Kya asks, as inquisitive as ever.

"Well… I… uh…" I mumble.

"What happened, Bumi?" Dad asks. "You haven't gotten in trouble for fighting in a while—in _months_ , in fact. Why are you fighting again all of a sudden?"

"Well, _technically_ , I _stopped_ the fight," I remark. "It wasn't much of a fight, though, now that I think about it…" I shake my head. "I didn't get in trouble for fighting, though. I got in trouble for having weapons on me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, while I was walking around the courtyard waiting for Haiyang to finish the exam and come out, I saw Kesuk bullying his little sister, Yukiko," I explain. "He wanted to teach her a lesson about wandering over to the older kids' side of the courtyard or something, I think, because he said something along the lines of 'if you want to be on this side so badly, _stay_ here!' right before he trapped her feet in ice so she couldn't move…" I shake my head again. "Anyway, while she was trapped, he was throwing ice daggers at her. She kept trying to free herself, but she wasn't having much luck because she had to keep stopping to protect her face and the rest of her body from the daggers Kesuk was hurling towards her. When she _finally_ broke the ice, Kesuk started doing… well, it looked like he was trying to freeze her in a sphere of ice."

"He can make an ice dome?" Mom interjects, her surprise evident in her voice.

"I guess," I shrug, a small scowl appearing on my face. "I don't know if it's true, but he's been bragging that his waterbending teacher says he'll be a master in a couple of months."

"Can Yukiko waterbend?" Dad inquires.

"No, she can't—that's why she was having such a hard time fighting Kesuk," I answer. "Anyway, I had to do _something_. If Kesuk succeeded in trapping her in an ice dome, I wouldn't be able to get her out, and I knew it—so I did what I could. I got one of my knives out of my sheath and I pinned his arm to the trunk of the nearest tree in the courtyard. He slammed into it, and all the snow on the branch above his head fell down onto him. It was hilarious." I chuckle as the image resurfaces in my mind, then continue. "He started screaming at me, which drew the attention of the teacher who was on courtyard duty. She came running over, and when Haiyang saw that the fight involved his sister, so did he, so he could melt the ice dome Kesuk had started forming. He was in the midst of thanking me for saving Yuki when the teacher interrupted him to tell Kesuk _and_ me to go to the headmaster's office." I scowl, still frustrated that she sent me to the headmaster's office. "I had to stay after school for the day, and after I served detention I had to go pick up my knives, which the headmaster confiscated—and _that_ made me miss the four o'clock ferry. I had to wait for the five o'clock one—which is why I just got home now."

"Okay, let me see if I got this straight," Dad says. "You didn't get in trouble for fighting, but rather for throwing a knife at Kesuk?"

"Yep," I confirm, nodding. "She said that we aren't allowed to have weapons on us and that I was in trouble for carrying them instead of keeping them in my locker." I pop a dumpling into my mouth, then cross my arms over my chest and scowl as best I can with my mouth full. "I argued with her for the entire hour I was in detention. I said that we should be allowed to carry whatever weapons we want on us so that we can protect ourselves against any benders who want to use their abilities as weapons, but I practically had to _force_ her to even hear me out! She just said that since bending isn't allowed on the courtyard, weapons shouldn't be allowed either."

"Well, that makes sense," Dad shrugs.

"No, it doesn't," I argue. I can feel my eyebrows coming together into a V shape. "If she wanted things to be fair, the nonbenders would be allowed to _have_ weapons on them, but would be forbidden from using them. I mean, that's how things are for the benders. They _have_ their bending, but they're not allowed to _use_ it—although they do… all the time…"

"Well, it's sort of impossible to take someone's bending away, Bumi," Dad reasons.

"No, it's not. You were able to take away Ozai's bending."

"I'm the Avatar. I'm the only one who can do that. It's impossible for everyone else," he insists. "And besides, I took away Ozai's bending _permanently_. You can't possibly be suggesting that we permanently take away every bender's bending ability…"

I can't help but glare at him. "You know, Dad, if you had said that with just a _bit_ more horror in your voice, I'd think that you think that not being able to bend is worse than death."

"I apologize if it came across that way, Bumi. I don't think that at all," Dad says. "It's just that… well, there's a difference between being _born_ a nonbender and being made _into_ a nonbender. You see, son, bending is such a deep-rooted part of someone that to lose the ability… well, it's sort of like going completely blind after being able to see your entire life."

I stare at Dad for a couple of seconds, then, without a word, turn back towards the food in front of me and resume eating.

_It's sort of like going completely blind…_

"Okay, son, look," Dad continues. "I understand where you're coming from. I do. I agree with the headmaster, though. Weapons should not be allowed in school. You can—and _should_ —carry them _to_ and _from_ school, but there's no need for them _at_ school. It's safe there—and besides, weapons can be deadly. If your aim had been off even the slightest bit, you could have seriously hurt—or even killed—Kesuk."

"My aim is _excellent_ , Dad," I retort. "I've been practicing ever since we came back from Ember Island. When Uncle Sokka isn't teaching me how to sword fight or making sure I haven't gotten rusty with my boomerang, I'm practicing my throwing skills. I surpassed Izumi's skills after a few weeks, and I'd bet all my yuans that I'm _at least_ as good as Aunt Mai!"

"Yes, son, I know… but what about someone else who maybe isn't as _proficient_ as you?" Dad counters. "You have to think about the potentially fatal consequences."

" _You_ have to remember that bending can have fatal consequences, too!" I shout, standing up and slamming my fists down on the table. "Did you forget _why_ you and Tenzin are the last airbenders, Dad? Did you forget that _firebending_ was the method used to commit _genocide_ against your entire race?"

"Bumi!" Mom exclaims.

I glance down at Tenzin, then, seeing that he's recoiled into himself, turn back towards Dad. He's staring at me with desolate gray eyes, his face wrought with the guilt he's never been able to get rid of. His expression tugs at my heart, but before I can apologize my anger returns.

"You don't get it," I declare indignantly. "You know as much about what it's like to be a nonbender as I do about what it's like to be a bender: _nothing_. I don't ever want to hear you say the words 'I understand' again because _you don't_ ," I continue, turning around so that my back is to them all. "I stopped a fight today. I might have even saved Yukiko's life. I didn't harm Kesuk at all." I stare down at the floor and bite my bottom lip so hard it starts bleeding. "I shouldn't have been punished because I didn't do anything wrong—but I _still_ got detention. I've got a plan to rectify the situation, though. I'll start a petition and get students—and maybe even some regular, random people in the city—to sign it. Once the headmaster sees just how many people want equality, she'll _have_ to let us carry weapons!"

"You're being ridiculous, Bumi," Mom opines. "You have less than six months left of school. Why are you so determined to fight for a change in the policy if you'll never see it implemented?"

"I'm determined to do this for the same reason you fought Master Pakku for the right of girls throughout the Northern Water Tribe to learn combat waterbending even though you had no intention of sticking around to see the policy change: because it's the right thing to do," I answer, turning around again to glare at Mom.

She doesn't respond, so I just shake my head again and continue. "I'm gonna go back to the city. I want to stop by Haiyang's and check on Yuki before class starts," I announce, picking my backpack up and slinging it over my shoulder.

"Class?"

"My boxing class, Mom," I explain, speaking as if I were talking to a child. "I've been boxing for five years this month, and Master Esen asked me to assist him in teaching a class for younger kids starting the first week of January, remember?"

She glances at Dad, but he just shrugs.

_How do neither of them remember this?_ I wonder. I'd been so excited when Master Esen asked me to be his teaching assistant because it meant that I'm really, _really_ good. He's well-known as one of the greatest hand-to-hand combat specialists in the United Republic—if not the entire _world_ —and he asks only his best students to be his assistant trainers. It was an honor to be asked, and I readily agreed. I didn't stop bragging about it until the second-to-last day of our vacation to the South Pole for the Winter Solstice, when Uncle Sokka _finally_ took me ice dodging. _Do they really not remember?_ I muse.

I can't help but sigh.

"Oh, whatever. It doesn't matter," I say. _It doesn't matter to you… but it matters to me._ "I'm going back into the city. I've got to take a glider; since the last ferry here leaves when the class starts, I won't be able to catch one back."

"What if the wind dies down by then?" Dad asks. _You'll be helpless. You can't airbend._

"I'll swim across the bay, then, Dad," I answer sarcastically. "I'll bring my backpack and a change of clothes along with my gear, and if there's not enough wind later, I'll crash at Haiyang's for the night. I'm sure his parents won't mind."

"Okay, but—."

"Stop." I glare at my parents. "My mind is made up."

I walk out of the dining room, then start in the direction of the boys' dormitory so that I can get a change of clothes and the duffel bag containing my boxing gear before I grab a glider from the bison stable. I already have one foot out the door when I stop to say one last thing.

"I'm _not_ helpless—and I'd sooner _die_ than agree to leave myself _defenseless_ just to appease you, the headmaster, or anyone else!"


	2. Rejection

"Well, how'd it go? What did Headmaster Ogawa say?"

I glance across the waiting room in front of the headmaster's office at Haiyang, who's jumped out of his seat and is staring at me, eagerly awaiting my response; then I look back at the closed door leading into Headmaster Ogawa's office, which, I admit, I closed more roughly than was necessary.

I want to throw a temper tantrum—complete with kicking and screaming—that would rival one of Kya's worsts, but all I do is shake my head and stalk past Haiyang and out of the waiting room, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Hey, wait up!" Haiyang calls, sprinting to catch up with me as I storm down the corridor and out the back door.

I ignore his command and walk into the courtyard at the rear of the school, then angle my head so that I can look at the engraving near the top of the edifice: REPUBLIC CITY PARK SENIOR ACADEMY.

The Republic City Park academies are the United Republic's most prestigious schools. The schools are located about halfway between the outskirts of the downtown district and City Hall, near the westernmost tip of Republic City Park, and while there are some regular, middle-class citizens that go here, the academies are known for being the nobility's institutions of choice.

I shift my gaze to the five banners before me. These banners are identical to the banners that are hanging beneath the engraving atop the front entrance to the school, and each one bears the name of one of the things the administrators that manage the Republic City Park academies consider crucial to a successful education: ambition, equality, honor, intelligence, and solidarity.

I scoff at the sight of the banner with "Equality" sewn into it, then reach under my tunic, where my chest sheath is. I'd taken it off and stuffed it into my locker once I got to school, but as soon as the bell signaling the end of the day rang, I returned it to its rightful place on my person. _I will not leave myself defenseless_ , I vow as I retrieve one of the kunai knives stored inside the sheath.

I aim the blade, then launch it towards the banner with "Equality" written on it. It severs the rope connecting the top of the stupid banner to the wall of the building, then glides behind the rope attached to the top of the banner with "Ambition" written on it, leaving that one and the other three unharmed.

I smirk and watch with great satisfaction as the damned banner flits to the ground, then trudge through the snow-covered courtyard and retrieve my knife. I return it to the sheath, then turn to leave.

"Why'd you do that?"

I glance up and see Haiyang walking towards me, waterbending the snow out of his way, creating for himself a path along which he can walk unhindered. "Stop that," I growl.

He shoots me a confused look. "Stop what?"

"Waterbending!" I cry, much more loudly than I intended to.

He raises one eyebrow in either confusion or concern, but stops waterbending. "Uh… okay?"

I continue stomping my way out of the courtyard.

"I'm guessing Headmaster Ogawa didn't change her mind?"

I stop, but I don't turn to look at him. We stand there in silence for a couple of seconds, until I finally speak.

"I campaigned in the speaker's corner of the park after school every day for a week since campaigning in the courtyard for any cause is forbidden. I nearly ran myself ragged, but I didn't even mind because I was _sure_ all the signatures would convince her to change the rule," I begin, indignation more evident in my voice than disappointment, even though it's the latter sentiment I feel most prominently. "There are three thousand kids in this school, and I got seventeen hundred signatures; that means that more than half of the student body agrees with me. I've got signatures from bending and nonbending students alike—but did that matter to the headmaster? No, no it did not! You know what she did, Haiyang? She glanced through the names, then kicked me out of the office with little more than 'Sorry, kid, but I'm not changing my mind. The rule stands.'" I shake my head. "What am I supposed to do with this petition now, Haiyang? I don't want to throw it out, but I can't just let it sit in my backpack and collect dust…"

"I don't know, Bumi. I'm sorry."

"Did you even agree with me, Haiyang?" I ask, staring out into the distance. "Did you agree with me, or did you just sign my petition because we're friends?"

"I wouldn't put my name on a petition I don't support, Bumi," Haiyang answers, the faintest hint of indignation in his voice. "I agreed with you. I _still_ agree with you. The conditions you set were fair; and besides, the complete ban on weapons is ridiculous. They're as handy as bending. I mean, if you hadn't had your knives on you, who knows what would've happened to my sister? _I_ wasn't there, and despite this school's supposed emphasis on honor and solidarity, no one else was doing _anything_ to help her."

I squint until I can see the entrance sign to Republic City Park, then, without another word to my best friend, start walking towards it. He trails behind me, as I expected him to do, but he doesn't say anything—so we walk down the street that leads to the park entrance in complete silence, letting the breeze rustle our jackets and the snow whiten our hair.

"Haiyang," I say, after a few minutes of silence. "Go home."

"But—."

"Go. Home." I glance over my shoulder at him and offer him the smallest of smiles. "I'm alright. I just want to be alone right now, okay? I'll see you tomorrow—or even later, if you'd like to grab dinner around here before my boxing class starts."

"Yeah… okay, sure, sure," he mutters, his voice anything but sure. "Six o'clock?"

"Sure."

"Well… alright. I'll see you later, man."

He stares at me, concern wrought on his face, for another second or two, but then crosses the street and turns the corner. He disappears behind the building, but it doesn't matter; I know where he's going. I know the route to his house as well as he does.

I stand still for another minute or so, then continue on down to the park. When I reach it, I acknowledge the two officials standing guard outside the entrance with a nod, then walk past them and start meandering through one of my favorite places in the city. It's a lot easier to walk through the park than it was to walk through the courtyard because there's far less snow on the ground here; the waterbending park officials clear out the snow almost as soon as it falls, unlike the school administrators, who just let it collect in the courtyard.

_This place is almost as dismal as the South Pole_ , I observe as I walk around. I can hear individuals yelling about various things from the nearby speaker's corner, and I can see children sledding down the small, snow-covered hills, the waterbending children on sleds made of ice and the other children on wooden sleds; but other than them, the park seems devoid of life. The grass is dead, the trees are barren, and the majority of the pond that stretches from one side of the park to the other is covered by ice due to the unusually cold winter Republic City is experiencing this year.

_This is the perfect place to be right now_ , I decide as I scan the area. _I'm like the grass or the flowers or the trees. I worked so hard to bloom, to look nice, to be strong… but a harsh wind came and made all my efforts for naught._

I retrieve a knife from the sheath on my chest and start spinning it around and around in my hand as I walk. The sound of a familiar voice shrieking almost causes me to miss it as gravity brings it downwards, though—almost.

"I'm gonna win! I'm gonna win!"

I turn in the direction of the high-pitched voice and see Akemi, the gorgeous, firebending elder daughter of a United Forces Navy admiral, being chased by her boyfriend and one of my good friends, Hengjian, who's the second-eldest son of the United Republic Council's Earth Kingdom representative.

"Oh no, you're not!" Hengjian cries, his voice tinged with laughter. He stomps his foot, and less than a second later the ground beneath Akemi morphs into a column that raises her several feet into the air.

She stares open-mouthed at the ground for a second, then turns to glare at Hengjian, who has since walked to the tree nearest them and is now casually leaning against it. "You were saying?" he smirks.

"You better let me down _now_ or I'm going to set your you-know-what on fire later tonight!" Akemi threatens. She stomps one foot against the column, but the earth doesn't move for her like it did for Hengjian.

"Yeah? I dare you to _try_ ," Hengjian challenges. He crosses his arms over his chest, and his smirk widens. "Come on, jump down; it's not that high."

"You better catch me!"

I watch as Akemi jumps off the column and onto Hengjian, causing both of them to slam against the tree trunk. The snow on the branches falls down onto them, practically covering both of them, but they just laugh and shrug it off.

As Akemi brushes the last of the snow off her jacket, Hengjian collapses the column into dirt. When the ground is back to its original state, he turns towards Akemi. He cradles her cheek in his hand, then kisses her passionately. He kisses her the same way I kissed Princess Izumi all those months ago… which is the same way I want to kiss Akemi.

_"I don't get it, Kemi," I said. "Why? Why him? Why did you pick Hengjian and not me?"_

_"Oh, Bumi…" Akemi sighed. She laid a hand against my cheek, but despite the warmth her being a firebender usually brought to her hand, her hand felt cold—and when she removed it after a second or so, the spot on my cheek where it had been felt frozen. "You're brave… and funny… and handsome… and strong… but so is Hengjian, and he's… also an earthbender. You may be named after the former King of Omashu and the second-greatest earthbender in the world, but you're not an earthbender, Bumi. It's not your fault. It's just that… well…"_

I glance at the area where Hengjian's column had been before returning my attention to the ground beneath my feet. The brown grass is dusted with snow, and it looks beautiful… in a sad sort of way.

_Yeah, I'm not an earthbender_ , I think, sighing quietly. _I'm not a bender at all. I can't control the air. I can't shape the water. I can't move the earth. I can't create fire._ I sigh again. _I can't do_ anything _._

_She could have told me that she doesn't find me attractive or that she thinks I'm an idiot_ , I continue musing. _Did she_ have _to give me the reason that would make her rejection sting the most?_

_It's not your fault._

She's right. It's not my fault. It's not my fault that I can't bend. It's not my fault that she wanted to date a bender.

_"Shh, Kemi. It's okay. I understand."_

_"Please don't be upset, Bumi. I'd hate for this to ruin our friendship."_

_"Are you kidding, Kemi?" I smiled genially at her, then plucked a snowflake from her dark hair. "I treasure your friendship too much to ever let something as trivial as this ruin it," I assured her. "And besides, if I can't be your boyfriend, then I'm glad someone like Hengjian can. He's a good guy. He'll treat you well—and I'll be happy so long as you're happy."_

I had acted as if I wasn't upset at all—and I did a damned good job, even if I do say so myself.

_"You better treat her well, Hengjian," I ordered, poking my finger into Hengjian's chest, "or else I'm gonna have to show Akemi that even though_ you're _the earthbender,_ I'm _the one who can rock her world!" I turned around and wagged my eyebrows at Akemi and her girlfriends, who were standing a few feet away from us, beside Haiyang, and grabbed my groin for emphasis; and while Akemi and her girlfriends were blushing and laughing into their hands, I threw my arm over Haiyang's shoulder, changed the subject to some hilarious topic, and led the two of us away._

When I returned home after school that afternoon, I walked straight to the edge of the island and spent the remainder of the day throwing my boomerang out over the crashing waves of Yue Bay and catching it when it came back to me, only to send it flying again. I spent hours doing that. By the time night fell, I had bloody palms and so little energy left I couldn't even lift my arm.

I still smile at Akemi when I see her in school, though, and I still eat lunch with Hengjian and ask him to be on my team when we play games in the courtyard. _He even signed my petition_ , I recall as I start walking away from the two of them. _There are no hard feelings between us… as far as anyone knows._

I'm good at playing pretend, though.

I'm good enough to convince myself that I wasn't upset enough to cry, at least.


	3. The Flyer

"Bumi!"

"Hmm?" I spin around and see Dad staring at me, his arms crossed over his chest. I jab the sharp edge of my jian sword into the dirt, then wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. My eyebrows furrow in concern at the sight of a frown on his usually cheerful face. "What's wrong, Dad?" I ask.

He waves a sheet of paper around in the air. "Do you know what this is?" he demands.

"I'm pretty confident it's a sheet of paper," I joke in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It doesn't work.

"This isn't the time for jokes, Bumi."

I can't help but shrink a bit at his tone of voice. It's the same tone he adopts whenever he discovers that I've taken one of my pranks on the Air Acolytes a little too far, and even though I know I'm not in trouble for _that_ —I haven't pranked any of those wannabe monks and nuns in over two weeks—it still intimidates me.

"What is it?" I ask, plucking my sword out of the ground and sliding it into the scabbard strapped to my hip.

"I'm searching for the answer to that question myself," Dad responds, eyeing me suspiciously as he hands me the sheet of paper. "After the Council meeting this morning, myself and the other councilmembers decided to grab lunch at Kwong's Cuisine. We went for a walk through the park afterwards, and when we passed the speaker's corner, we came across a man standing behind a pro-Equalist table who was singing your praises and handing these flyers out to anyone and everyone who walked by."

I look down at the flyer. My name, written at the top in black ink, is centered above a rectangular picture of me shouting something from behind the table I had set up in the speaker's corner of the park last week to campaign for signatures for my petition.

Dad gestures towards the paragraph beneath the picture. "Read it," he instructs.

I do as commanded.

_Avatar Aang's eldest son, fifteen-year-old Bumi, the only nonbending child of the Avatar and his wife, Katara, a master waterbender, has become a hero [albeit an unwitting hero] for Equalists all over Republic City by rising to the challenge of defending the right of nonbending schoolchildren to protect themselves. After saving a young girl from an older waterbender's wrath and being given detention for having throwing knives on his person, Bumi drafted a petition that requested that nonbending schoolchildren be allowed to carry weapons of their choice on their person, but be forbidden from using said weapons in the school courtyard — which is comparable to how bending students are [technically] forbidden from bending in the courtyard. He got the signatures of 1,700 Republic City Park Senior Academy students (out of 3,000), but the school's headmaster, Mrs. Hitomi Ogawa, a firebender, rejected the petition, effectively denying Bumi and every other nonbending student their right to defend themselves._

I look up at Dad's solemn face, but before I can speak he tells me to flip the flyer over and read what's written on the back—so I do.

_When Mrs. Ogawa rejected Bumi's petition, she rejected the pleas of RCPSA's nonbending student population, as well as denied them the ability to defend themselves against any and all threats. In addition, she made it clear that she favors students who can bend. While equality is considered crucial to a successful education according to the administrators of the Republic City Park academies, there is no equality in the schools. The nonbending children are treated like second-class students, much like how the nonbending people of Republic City are treated like second-class citizens._

_It is worth mentioning that neither of Bumi's parents signed his petition because it means that he stood up not just against the school system, but the Avatar—arguably the most powerful person on Earth—and the greatest waterbender in the world as well. He fought against not just the RCPSA rulebook, but two of the bending establishment's most influential figures—and he did so bravely, albeit unsuccessfully. We should all follow Bumi's example and fight for equality—not just in the school courtyard, but in the city and, eventually, the world as well._

_Thank you for showing us what it means to courageously fight against the bending establishment, Bumi. We hope that this setback does not deter you from advocating for equality, and we ask you to continue to fight for yourself and for your fellow nonbenders. The Equalists stand behind you!_

I stare at the flyer for another second or two, then glance up at my father.

"Well?" he prompts.

"Well, that was… _this is_ … wow, uh, I…" I splutter.

"It's because of things like _this_ that I don't want you—that I don't want _any_ of my children—talking to the press. You spent a couple of days in the park, and now you're an 'unwitting hero' for those wannabe revolutionaries that call themselves 'the Equalists.'" Dad glares at me, then shakes his head. "I warned you against drafting that petition; I asked you not to campaign for signatures in the park; and I ordered you not to speak to any journalists. And what did you do, Bumi? You defied me!"

"I—."

"You're punished."

"I'm _what_?!" I screech.

"You're punished," Dad repeats. "You know I don't like to discipline you, Bumi, but you've been told not to speak to the press ever since you were a baby. I've said time and time again that journalists are only out to get attention-grabbing headlines, regardless of whether they are affiliated with a newspaper or with some other organization—but you didn't listen, and now some journalist is attempting to defame our family by associating you with radical insurgents!"

"I didn't speak to any journalists!" I exclaim. "I didn't talk to anyone except RCPSA students, a couple of curious RCPJA students, and a dozen or so random people that happened to stop by my table as they were walking through the speaker's corner—and none of them had a camera or a notepad or were wearing the ID badge reporters wear!"

"Well, one of those 'random people' you spoke to was affiliated with the Equalists, and now you're their hero of the month or something!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" I demand. "I don't ask everyone I meet what their job is!"

"You couldn't have known—but you shouldn't have been campaigning at all, Bumi."

"Yes, I should've," I argue. "I was doing what was right, Dad."

"No, you weren't," he contests.

"You might be the Avatar, Dad, but your opinion is not necessarily fact or truth," I snarl, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at my father.

"I'm well aware of that, Bumi," Dad replies, "but I'm right about this. There is no need for you or anyone else to carry weapons on you while you're in school." He crosses his arms over his chest, too, then shoots me a look. "I agree with Mrs. Ogawa," he adds. "The rule should not be changed."

"It should. It's unfair."

"Stop," Dad orders. "The Republic City Park academies are the best schools in the United Republic—and, quite possibly, the world. If the rules by which they operate were truly unfair, they would not be such renowned institutions." He gestures towards the flyer in my hand, then to the [relatively] nearby dock. "Go to the park, find the man handing these flyers out, and tell him to stop," he commands. "Say that you do not want details of your personal life being printed onto flyers and distributed to the public."

"But—."

"You will do as I command or I'll lengthen your punishment… which I still have yet to decide the specifics of," Dad says. "I do not want my son's face and name appearing on Equalist propaganda—and you should not want to be affiliated with the group, anyway." He strokes his beard for a minute, his expression impassive, then continues. "I have no doubt that some Equalists are regular people who are looking to take their anger and frustration out on something, but many of them are just angry extremists who want nothing more than to terrorize benders." He shoots me a dour look. "You don't know a lot—if _anything_ —about the Equalists, Bumi, but _I_ do. I've had several discussions with Toph regarding the best way to handle them, and the Council is working hard to help alleviate the tension between benders and nonbenders in the city. It's a serious matter, but not one you should concern yourself with—especially if you're going to do something stupid like get yourself associated with the fanatical group that's becoming more and more militant by the day."

_I didn't do anything stupid!_ I growl silently. _Why can't my parents see that I was just fighting for equality? Why can't they see how unfair the rule is?_

I stuff the flyer into one of the pockets of my jacket and turn in the direction of the dock.

_… because it doesn't affect them_ , I answer wordlessly.

"I'll wait by the dock and catch the next ferry into the city. I don't know if I'll be back in time for dinner, but if I'm not, don't feel obligated to wait for me to return to start eating," I say.

_What do the Equalists want? Why does Dad seem to hate them so much?_ I wonder as I amble down to the dock. _Which one of the people I talked to was the one who designed this flyer? What does my being their new hero mean for me? What am I supposed to say to them if I run into them in the speaker's corner?_

I've got a dozen questions swirling around in my mind, but all I can really focus on is the last sentence on the flyer. _The Equalists stand behind you!_ It's one of the less dramatic sentences on the flyer, but it's the one that was most successful in catching my attention… because the Equalists are doing more for me than my own family did when I tried to fight for equality by simply _saying_ that they'll stand behind me.

I don't know any Equalists, and I don't really trust them, either… but for some reason, I _believe_ in them. And they seem to believe in me.

And I'd be lying if I said that didn't mean anything to me.


	4. First Impression

"Bumi!"

"It's him! It's Bumi!"

"It's really him!"

I squint and see a wooden table set up in front of a large board displaying a red banner bearing the word "Equality," but I can't get more than a glance because within seconds the crowd around the table manages to surround me, effectively blocking my view of the table as well as my view of the man behind it.

"I can't believe it! It's Bumi!"

I squeeze my arms against my sides in an attempt to avoid being touched by the dozens of hands that are outstretched towards me.

"He's got one of the flyers!"

_Spirits_ , I swear silently, grimacing as the shrieks coming from the crowd surrounding me stab my brain.

"Bumi!"

I scan the crowd, curious. I'm not used to being the center of strangers' attention. I don't garner a lot of attention when I go out alone or with friends, and I all but don't exist when I go out with my family. When strangers flock to my family, it's usually to get my parents' attention or to fawn over Tenzin. Sometimes someone will approach us to utter some kind words to Kya, but no one—and I quite literally mean _no one_ —ever talks to _me_. I'm usually not even spared a glance—and on the rare occasion that I am, it's always a pitying one.

I loathe it. I don't want anyone's pity—but that's all I seem to ever get.

I understand _why_ all I ever get is a quick, pitying glance, though. It's quite obvious to everyone—and especially to _me_ —that I got the short end of that damned, proverbial stick. I'm the only nonbending child of the Avatar and the world's greatest waterbender—the son who, through no fault of his own, cannot help his father restore his almost-extinct race or live up to his parents' legacies.

I understand _why_ I get pity. I just don't _want_ it.

Since pity is all I've ever gotten, though, I don't really know how to handle being surrounded by a horde of admirers.

"Are you going to go give Headmaster Ogawa a piece of your mind?"

"Bumi!"

"Are you going to join us? Are you going to join the Equalists?"

"I can't believe he's here…"

"Can you sign my flyer?"

"What did you do with the petition?"

"Can I get your autograph?"

"Why do you think the headmaster rejected you?"

"You're a hero!"

I attempt to answer the dozens of people surrounding me, but my mouth is as dry as the frigid air around us and not a single syllable escapes my lips.

When, after a couple of minutes, I manage to spit out the words "excuse me", the people, without any hesitation, part so as to leave me a clear path to the table. I give the people a nod of appreciation, then walk up to the table. I don't recognize the man standing behind it, and I'm left all but speechless when he bows respectfully before me.

"It is an honor to have you here at our table, Bumi," he declares.

_It is an honor to have you here at our table, Bumi_ , I repeat silently. _It's an honor to have_ me _here. He didn't say it's an honor to have "the Avatar's son" here. He said it's an honor to have_ me _here._

I like this man already.

"Th—thank you," I stammer, still pleasantly surprised that he addressed me by my name, rather than by my relationship to Avatar Aang. "I… uh…" I gesture towards the stacks of flyers sitting on the table. "Are you the one who made these?"

"Yes. Do you like them?"

"Where did you get the information about the petition and Headmaster Ogawa?" I ask, ignoring the man's question because I don't have an answer to it.

"There are a lot of Equalists in Republic City, Bumi, and we are constantly scouring the city, looking for nonbenders whose actions and stories we can relay to the public to inspire others to get up, get out, and fight for equality," he answers. "We hand out new flyers—stories—every couple of weeks."

"Yeah, well, I—." I think back to what Dad said about telling whoever I found behind the pro-Equalist table that I don't appreciate the details of my personal life being printed onto flyers and distributed to the public, then decide against saying exactly that—because the truth is that I don't really mind. It's a little strange, but not in a bad way—and besides, I've got nothing to hide. _What's the big deal? Why does Dad think that being associated with the Equalists is so terrible?_

"Are you all Equalists?" I ask, changing my response and gesturing to the crowd behind me.

"Yes, but many of the people here only joined recently," the man answers.

"Oh." I glance over my shoulder at the dozens of people behind me, all of whom are watching our exchange with interest, then turn back towards the Equalist protestor. "Are you one of the higher-ups, then?"

"Oh, the Equalists don't have an official leader… yet," he informs me, chuckling. "We only have people who take a more active role in advocating for equality between benders and nonbenders."

"Are you all nonbenders?" I inquire.

"Yes." The Equalist protester nods solemnly. "It's an unfortunate fact that benders tend to… _take offense_ to our message. We're domestic terrorists, in their eyes—but if you read between the lines, Bumi, you'll see that benders are just afraid that we'll treat _them_ the same way they've treated _us_ for centuries."

_You're an "unwitting hero" for those wannabe revolutionaries that call themselves "the Equalists."_

I scan the crowd surrounding me, searching for some sign that the individuals here could be a threat to peace. I don't see even a single individual with a hostile expression on their face or weapons on their person, but I've never known Dad to be judgmental—so there has to be _something_ about the Equalists that warrants him calling the group "fanatical" and "militant."

"What do you do?"

"What do you mean?" the Equalist protestor asks, clearly confused.

"What do you _do_?" I repeat. I gesture towards the crowd around us. "You want to… to ease the tension between benders and nonbenders by equalizing us somehow, but all you seem to really be doing is standing around, talking about people who—in your opinion, at least—are _actually_ doing something to promote equality. Do you do anything besides complain?"

"You're observant… and honest. I like that," the Equalist protester chuckles. "We do several things—protesting inequality is just one of them." He gestures towards the flyers on the table and smiles at me. "We spread awareness about smart, talented nonbenders who are doing amazing things via these flyers and other forms of literature. We just recently published a book on the late legendary sword master, Piandao, in fact." He stares at me for a moment, and his chocolate-colored eyes seem to be able to touch my soul. "We also advocate for the appointment of nonbenders to leadership positions. We were some of Councilman Sokka's loudest supporters, and we like to believe that we helped him get appointed Chairman of the Council."

_If the Equalists campaigned for Uncle Sokka, how bad could they really be?_ I wonder.

"You want equality, right?" I query.

"Yes."

"Well, what specifically do you want to change?" I ask. "I mean, with the exception of a couple of minor things—like that stupid weapons ban in the RCP academies—benders and nonbenders are pretty equal… at least from what I've seen."

"You don't spend a lot of time outside of the downtown district, do you, Bumi?"

I shrug. "I don't have a lot of reasons to wander too far outside of the downtown district."

"I'd like to think that seeing the rest of the city is reason enough," the protester replies, "but fine. Do you know which gang controls the downtown district?"

"The Triple Threat Triad," I answer.

"Yes. Did you ever run into them?"

"Yeah, once. I was out with Unc—uh, Councilman Sokka and my mom one afternoon, and while Mom was checking out some clothes someone was selling, Councilman Sokka and I went to another shop, looking at clocks — mine had stopped working a few days before.

"While we were there," I continue, "a couple of Triple Threats approached us, demanding money. We were just about to get into a fight in the middle of the store when Mom found us, but the gang members left shortly after she came back, so nothing happened."

"They left when the waterbender returned… typical," the protester mumbles.

"What do you mean?"

"The Triple Threats target nonbenders—just like all the other triads. The police spend a lot of time in neighborhoods where the majority of the residents are nonbenders under the pretense that those neighborhoods are home to a large number of dangerous political dissidents, but the overwhelming majority of criminals are benders. The bending triads are the most obvious example of bending criminals… but there are dozens of others that I can think of," he explains.

"Okay, but it was… it was just a coincidence that they left when Mom showed up."

"Do you really believe that, Bumi?"

"Yes."

_No?_

"I don't kn—," I start to admit.

"Of course he believes that! The kid's got _sense_ , unlike the rest of you!"

I turn around to look in the direction of the voice, but I don't recognize the man I see standing amidst the crowd, glaring at the Equalists around me. He seems to be of Earth Kingdom origin, considering his hair is styled into a braided queue and his eyes are green, but his skin is darker than the average Earth Kingdom citizen's, and a lot of United Republic natives come from multicultural families, so it's hard to tell for sure.

"I'm gonna take a shot in the dark here and guess you're a bender?" the Equalist protester retorts sardonically.

"Yup."

I watch as the man narrows his eyes and, as a smirk appears on his face, stomps the ground, turning the ground beneath the table into a short, stout column that, as it rises, flips the table over and disrupts the protester's balance.

"Hey!"

"You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can," the earthbender responds, sneering at the indignant crowd. "You're all fools!" he continues. "You can't get rid of bending! You can kill us all, but nonbenders can still have bending children! What are you going to do—kill everyone in the world? You can't! Give it up. Some people are benders and some aren't. It's just the way the world works."

"Well, it's unfair!" the protester retorts as he rises to his feet once again. "We will not stop fighting for equality!"

"Oh, shut up. You sound like a child!" the earthbender snarls. "Go home and complain to your mother, you whiny brat!" He lifts a block of earth up, then launches it at the protester.

I slide my sword out of its scabbard and use it to split the block of earth in two before it gets too close to the protester. As the pieces of the block fall to the ground, I turn back towards the earthbender. I get into a basic stance, ready and willing to defend… or attack.

I watch the earthbender raise his hand, but I don't realize until it's too late that he's no longer earthbending, but metalbending; and as he balls his raised hand into a fist, my sword curls into itself and drops with a slight _clang_ onto the snow-dusted ground.

I take a second to glance at my now-useless sword before narrowing my eyes and returning my attention to the aggressive earthbender. "You're a metalbender, eh?" I say. _I hate metalbenders!_ "Okay, I guess I can kick your ass the old-fashioned way."

He slams his fist against the ground, but before the narrow fissure he created can knock me off my feet I jump up and grab onto the top of the nearby display board. I do a backflip over it, and as I push against it I shove it in the direction of the earthbender. He doesn't create an earth shield, but rather ducks—which gives me the opportunity to send two knives flying towards one of his sleeves and one of the hems of his pants. "You can't bend what you don't see coming!" I cry gleefully as the right side of his body is pinned to the ground.

He growls in what I assume is frustration, then sends another block of earth towards me. It's smaller than the previous one, though, suggesting that he's weaker with his left. _Good_ , I think as I dodge the rock and sprint towards him, _I pinned his stronger side to the ground._

I approach his left side, dancing around the rocks he aims at me as I undo the belt around my waist. As soon as I get it free, I wrap it around the earthbender's neck. I dance around him as I tighten the makeshift noose so as to thwart his attempts at encasing my ankles in rocks, and after a minute or two I hear the change in his breathing. I don't want to strangle him, but I'm not dumb enough to release him while he's still acting belligerently.

"You're in for it now, kid," the earthbender growls. He presses his palm against the ground, and before I even figure out what he's doing the ground beneath us turns to quicksand, causing the knives pinning his right arm and right leg to the ground to fall down. He compacts the sand beneath him so that he's no longer in danger, then closes his fist, which results in the ground swallowing me up.

_Okay, don't panic_ , I command myself, covering my nose and mouth with one hand so as to avoid inhaling sand. _He's got to let me out sooner or later… right?_

I can't help but growl upon realizing that I'm completely at the earthbender's mercy.

"You can relax, kid," I hear as the earth opens up and spits me out. "I wouldn't dare hurt _the Avatar's_ son. I don't want to have to face the wrath of the most powerful man in the world."

_I don't want anyone to go easy on me just because they're afraid of my father!_ I grumble silently. _I can take whatever they can dish out!_

I scramble to my feet, then glare at the earthbender as I return my belt to its place around my waist. "These people have the right to assemble in protest," I say, conjuring up what little dignity I have left. "If you don't agree with them, ignore them! You don't have to start a fight."

"I take back what I said earlier," the earthbender responds, looking not at me, but at the dozens of people surrounding us. "The Avatar's eldest son has as little sense as the rest of you." He turns to face me, then continues. "You're defending terrorists, kid," he says. "Your father would be ashamed."

_He's already ashamed of me… even if he won't admit it_ , I reply silently as I watch the earthbender turn around and walk away.

"You've got courage, kid—and skill!" the Equalist protester says, interrupting my self-denigrating thoughts. "I'm sorry about your sword, though," he adds after glancing at the jian.

"Thanks." _What am I supposed to do with it now? It won't fit into the scabbard anymore._ "I'll forge a new one, though." _I shouldn't_ have _to forge a new sword!_ "It's too bad we can't make weapons out of platinum. I mean, even Aunt To—uh, Chief Beifong can't bend platinum."

"We might be able to… one day," the protester responds. He rights the table, then walks over to me and lays a hand on my shoulder. "Anyway, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted… you live a sheltered life, Bumi."

I shoot him a look that makes it clear I don't appreciate that comment.

"Oh, it's not your fault," he continues, shrugging. "You're the Avatar's son. I'd be surprised if you _weren't_ sheltered." He adjusts one of the sleeves of his maroon tangzhuang jacket, then gestures towards the crowd around us. " _We_ do not have that privilege," he adds. "You don't see how much inequality there really is in Republic City because you don't typically venture too far outside of the wealthier areas, where discrimination against and oppression of nonbenders is less glaring. While social stratification between benders and nonbenders still exists in the upper class, one's inability to bend is often disregarded if one comes from a respected family. Chief Beifong's parents, Lao and Poppy Beifong, are excellent examples of this."

_Does being a member of the nobility really negate being a nonbender?_ I wonder.

"You challenge what inequality and injustice you see, and that's admirable," the protester continues. "As a member of the nobility—and as someone with strong ties to some of the bending establishment's most influential figures—you have power that none of us have. You have connections and a sphere of influence that extends far beyond that of the average person's. You would be a great asset if you were to join us in our fight to bring equality to Republic City and, eventually, to the world." He gestures to the flyers with my picture on them, which are now strewn about the area. "You readily fight inequality and injustice. You have a good heart, Bumi," he asserts. "You see only a small fraction of the inequality that threatens the rights of nonbenders throughout the city, though.

"You should visit the Dragon Flats borough sometime," the protester suggests. "I'm sure your parents have warned you against venturing into that neighborhood, but please, Bumi, spend an hour or two there, just talking to some of the people who live there and walking around. You owe it to yourself to see what is happening to your own kind—so please, go there and see what you see, then come back to me. We can talk again then."

_"I'm sure you can get the book in one of the bookstores around here, so look. If you can't find it, tell me, and I'll go to the Dragon Flats borough and get it for you."_

_"What? I'm perfectly capable of going to the Dragon Flats borough by myself, Mom!"_

_"I know you are, Bumi, but I don't want you going there. It's dangerous. The Dragon Flats borough is controlled almost entirely by the Agni Kai Triad, and you have no means of protecting yourself from them."_

I didn't notice her implication… until now.

_You have no means of protecting yourself from them._

_Well, I do now, Mom,_ I think rebelliously.

"Okay," I agree.

"Okay," the protester smiles. "I will respect your wishes if you still don't want to join the Equalists after walking through the Dragon Flats borough… but I have faith that you will not turn your back on your own kind." He bends down to pick up some flyers, then stands up again and shoots me another smile. "You've defended us twice now, Bumi, whether you meant to or not—and we thank you," he says. "We'd also like to remind you that we stand behind you."

_The Equalists stand behind you!_

"What's your name?"

_Smooth, Bumi… real smooth…_

He chuckles. "My name is Da Zan," he answers.

I nod, then bend down and pick up my now-bent sword.

_I hate metalbenders_ , I grouse silently. _The vast majority of my weapons are made of metal, so they can just bend them and leave me defenseless. It's not fair!_

"Bumi?"

I shift slightly to look at Da Zan.

"Did anyone ever teach you the art of chi blocking?" he inquires.

_Chi blocking?_

I don't know much about chi blocking. I know that Ty Lee had to teach it to all of the Kyoshi Warriors before Suki would let her join the group, and that the technique has been a staple of the group's fighting style ever since. I also know that chi blocking a bender causes them to lose their ability to bend, and that master chi blockers can [supposedly] control the damage done by the technique.

I have no idea how to do it, though, so I shake my head no.

"Do you want to learn how to chi block people?"

_It's sort of like going completely blind._

I don't know how I could, in good conscience, take someone's bending ability away if what Dad said when I suggested doing so about two weeks ago is true… but the thought of being able to force a bender to have to fight on equal ground as me—at least temporarily—is tempting.

It's _very_ tempting.

"This might be one of your last chances to learn it, you know," Da Zan warns.

_What? What's that supposed to mean?_ "What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard?" Da Zan asks, his eyebrows raised in what looks like genuine surprise. "The Council is considering making chi blocking illegal—just like bloodbending. 'It's too much power for someone to have,' they said. Personally, I think they're just scared that benders will be brought down to the level of nonbenders if the art of chi blocking becomes widespread." He rolls his eyes. "They're afraid of equality."

_What do they mean, it's too much power for someone to have?_ I wonder. _You can't kill someone with chi blocking, and a master chi blocker still has less power than the average bender…_

"No."

"No?"

_Oh, crud, did I say that out loud?_

"Go. I, uh… I've got to go," I stammer in an attempt to save myself. "It's been… um… great meeting you, Da Zan. I'll, uh… see you around?" I add before I turn around and walk away as quickly as I can without coming across as suspicious.

_It's all propaganda. He's just trying to propagandize me._

He does have a point, though. He has _several_ valid points, actually.

_No!_

_Yes!_

I don't realize that I never told Da Zan to stop handing out those flyers until I've got one foot on the ferry heading to Air Temple Island.

_Oh boy._


	5. Welcome to the Dragon Flats Borough

"I'll see you next week, Master Esen," I promise, bowing respectfully to my master as the last of his—or, more accurately, of _our_ —students file out of the room.

"I'm looking forward to it, Bumi," Master Esen responds, returning the bow. "You've been a huge help to me so far. You're an excellent teacher."

I can feel some color creeping into my cheeks, so before I get too red I throw the duffel bag containing my boxing gear over my shoulder and duck out of the room. Once I get outside, I let the cool, late-evening air wash over me.

_Mmm… the sea_ , I muse as I inhale the smell of salt water. The little school that Master Esen owns is located in the center of the triangle formed by City Hall, the heart of the downtown district, and Police Headquarters—all of which are located within walking distance of the docks. I'd get to the docks quicker if I took the train, of course, but the miles-long jog down to the water serves as a cool-down for me.

I'm not going to do my usual cool-down tonight, though. I've got somewhere else to be: the Dragon Flats borough.

I turn around so that I can look inland. I can see the façade of City Hall and, if I squint, the silhouette of the entrance sign to Republic City Park. It's too dark to see beyond the entrance to the park, but I know what's there: Cabbage Corp. There's a train line near Cabbage Corp that crosses the water over there, and I could take it south, then as far east as it will go, as the Dragon Flats borough is the one of the easternmost areas of Republic City.

I'd rather jog down to the docks than take the train east, but I've got to go to the Dragon Flats borough, and I've got to go _tonight_. When I returned home from the park yesterday, Dad disciplined me for speaking to reporters—even though, technically, I _didn't_ —by banning me from leaving Air Temple Island (with exceptions for school and boxing) for the next week. He also forbade me from using the jian for the next two weeks—not that that really matters, as that earthbender curled my sword up into a ball and Dad won't let me even _ask_ Aunt Toph to fix it.

It's useless… but I'm still mad about that part of the punishment. I mean, Dad forbade me from using it as if it were some sort of toy that I could part with easily. I've never seen either of my parents punish Kya or Tenzin by forbidding them from bending, but Dad forbade me from sword fighting without a second thought. He spoke about the jian as if it were a game or a toy, rather than an important part of my identity as a warrior. I'd spoken up and told him that that part of the punishment was unfair because it was like forbidding Kya and Tenzin from bending for two weeks, but he didn't agree or understand—and then Mom came to his defense and told me that it's "not the same."

I didn't think that arguing would get me anywhere, so I let it go—or so they think. I'm still mad, and I was all too happy to get off the island for a while to come here to teach younger kids how to box. It felt good to get off that insufferable island for a little while, and it felt _great_ to beat the hay out of a punching bag. I had so much pent-up anger behind my punches I dented my punching bag and even knocked it off the chain that connects it to the rafters on the ceiling… more than once.

I'm still mad, but I've got more interesting things to think about now. I haven't been able to stop thinking about my conversation with Da Zan. He'd said that discrimination against and oppression of nonbenders isn't as bad amongst the nobility, and after thinking about it some, I've come to agree with him. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, the weapons ban at school and being forbidden by my parents from practicing with the jian are small injustices.

What, then, is a _great_ injustice? What do nonbenders _outside_ the nobility have to put up with? What could go on in the Dragon Flats borough—and in other lower- and middle-class neighborhoods in which nonbenders constitute the overwhelming majority—that would result in the Equalist movement having so many supporters?

_What have my parents hidden from me?_

It'll take me about an hour to get to the Dragon Flats borough, which would make my approximate arrival time the inconveniently late hour of 9:00 PM. It doesn't matter, though. I have to go. My curiosity has been haunting me ever since I spoke with Da Zan—and besides, I have to get out of the "downtown bubble" and see for myself the injustices Da Zan and the other Equalists speak out against.

I start jogging in the direction of the nearest train station, my duffel bag thudding against my side as I run. I don't have my sword, but I've got my other weapons. My boomerang is in its sheath on my back, and my knives are in the sheath strapped to my chest, beneath my tunic. I am not defenseless.

I am _not_ defenseless, and I am most certainly not _afraid_.

* * * * * * * * * *

The giant clock on the wall of the train station in the Dragon Flats borough says that it's a quarter to nine. _I made it here in good time_ , I think before walking outside.

I walk into a snow bank, and as I look around, I see a lot more snow on the ground than I should, considering the last snowstorm to hit Republic City hit almost a week ago. I also notice that it's dark here—darker than it is anywhere else in Republic City that I've ever been at night.

I see the silhouettes of streetlights along the road, so I walk over to one. When I hear the distinctive _crunch_ of broken glass, I crouch down and scan the area around me. Shattered glass is scattered all over the snow-dusted street.

_Why are all the streetlights broken?_

I glance out at what would be the horizon if the sun were still out and see it: a light. It isn't flickering, but it looks larger than a streetlight.

_What is that?_ I wonder as I stand back up.

I close my eyes to make my sense of sight irrelevant and to sharpen my other senses, and within seconds the feeling of hot air and the smell of smoke overcome me.

_It's a fire!_

I start running towards the light before I even open my eyes, and within two minutes I'm within ten feet of what could only be called a disaster. The flames illuminate what the shattered streetlights cannot, and the scene is heart-wrenching. The two-story building at the corner of the intersection in front of me is on fire. The wall facing me is in ruins, and through the flames—which are currently lapping at the edges of the roof—I can see that the fire has engulfed the entire first floor of the building. There are a couple of men ushering women and children away from the building, and about a dozen others sprinting in some other direction, screaming about getting to the pond.

The screams of frightened children who are deaf to their mothers' soothing words pierce the blistering air, but one in particular is louder than all the others—and when I turn in the direction of the high-pitched voice, I see a little girl about Tenzin's age staring at a disheveled man walking out of the burning building. There's a woman draped over his shoulder, and her clothes are all but shredded, resulting in her exposing to everyone areas of her body she'd likely rather keep private.

I watch as the man sets the woman down on the ground and as the little girl rushes to her side. The woman—who I can now see is badly burned—attempts to raise her hand to comfort the little girl, but she doesn't have the strength to; all she can do is stare sadly at the child.

"You're going to be okay, aren't you, Mommy?" the girl sobs. "You have to be! You can't die!"

"Shh, Lei Lee," the woman coos as the girl curls up into a ball on the hard, snow-covered ground beside her. "It's… okay. Where's my… strong… baby girl?"

_She's going to die in her daughter's arms_ , I realize.

I don't want to watch the woman die, so I glance around at the other people—and as I do, I make eye contact with the man that carried Lei Lee's mother out of the building. He gives me a once-over, then speaks. "Please…" he gasps, staring at my outfit, which happens to be blue. "Tell me… you're a… waterbender."

The desperation in his voice tugs painfully at my heart. "No," I say, my voice apologetic. "I'm not a waterbender. I'm sorry."

He glances over his shoulder at the woman and her daughter, then at the burning building behind them; then he walks over to me, grabs my wrist, and starts dragging me in another direction.

"Where are we going?" I ask, for some inexplicable reason not even slightly concerned that a strange man is dragging me deeper into this unfamiliar neighborhood.

"The nearest source of water," he answers. "There's a park nearby, and there's a big pond in the middle of it."

"I'm not a waterbender," I remind him gently.

"I know," he responds, his gaze focused straight ahead.

We reach the park even faster than I reached the fire from the train station, and as we approach the pond I see about half a dozen men standing calf-deep in the shallow water, filling up buckets. We join the dozen or so others who are grabbing said buckets to bring back to the burning building.

We follow the smell of smoke back to the building, and as I run I ignore the aching, the pulsing, of my arms, the strain of carrying head-sized buckets full of water exacerbating the soreness that follows an intense training session. My pain doesn't matter right now.

We throw the water on the fire as soon as we get back to the building, but it doesn't seem to make a difference. It's too little too late—and everyone else realizes it, too, if the expressions on their faces are any indication of their thoughts. We've got to _try_ to get the fire under control, though, and so we continue running back and forth between the polluted pond in the park and the destroyed building.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Okay, we're good. We can just stomp the rest of this out, I think," the man who dragged the woman out of the fire announces after what seems like forever.

The other men on the street grunt in agreement, and as we all start stomping out the last remnants of the fire that had so nearly engulfed the building, I turn towards the man who had led me to the pond. "Why didn't any firefighters come?" I ask.

"You're looking at a group of firefighters right now, kid," he grunts in response.

"What? I am?"

"Yup." He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then returns his gaze to a spark on the ground. "You ain't from around here, are you?" he adds.

_Does he not know who I am?_

I glance at him. He seems genuine.

_Well, I'll keep it a secret… for now_ , I decide. _He might not be as forthcoming if he knows who my parents are, and I want to learn the truth… about everything._

"No, I'm not," I answer.

"I didn't think so. Well, there _are_ no official firefighters here," he explains, his voice gruff. "We all just do what we can whenever we can. There's not much we can do while we're at work, though, and that's when most buildings catch fire." He gestures at another building whose wall has collapsed, leaving the scorched interior exposed. "There aren't a lot of jobs around here, and most of us younger guys work as either construction workers or quarry workers. I'm one of the latter." He yawns, then continues. "We spend our days in the mountains, excavating rocks we can use to rebuild buildings that have been burned down—but since none of us are earthbenders it takes forever. We're there all day." He scans the area as if he's looking for someone, but he can't see much because since we put out the fire all we have in terms of light are a couple of lanterns some stragglers are holding. "We were only just getting back here from the mountains when that building first caught fire," he continues, gesturing towards the building that had been on fire just minutes before. "We came as fast as we could, but by the time we got here, the wall had already collapsed." He glances at me out of the corner of his eye again, then shifts his focus back to the dark scene before us. "We've got about seven buildings that need rebuilding now. We'll have to spend our weekend at the mountains… again." He chuckles ruefully. "We're used to doing that, though. After all, the average work day 'round here is about sixteen hours."

"Sixteen hours?" I repeat, incredulous. _Who in Agni's name works sixteen hours a day?!_

"Yep. We're up at dawn and out until about nine every night." He glances at me again, and, seeing my horrified expression, shrugs. "It's what has to be done," he explains. "I'd rather _not_ work sixteen-hour days, but things like quarrying—and putting out fires—take longer when you can't use bending to speed up the process; and if I have to work sixteen hours a day to provide for my family, then I'll work sixteen hours a day."

"Well, where are all your benders?" I ask. "I mean, there must be _some_ benders who live here."

"I can count the number of benders in this neighborhood on one hand, kid, and all of them are younger than you," he replies. "Our benders find work elsewhere and move out of here as soon as they can."

_Why?_

He tilts his chin in the direction of the woman he dragged out of the building, and when I shift my attention to her, I see the little girl, Lei Lee, sobbing quietly over her still body.

_I'd do anything to take that little girl's pain away_ , I think.

"She's dead—or close to it," he continues, his voice soft but nonchalant, as if he's accustomed to the heart-wrenching sight before us. "We've got a couple of women here who are trained in first aid, but the injuries most people sustain in these fires are ones that can only be successfully treated by a healer. There are no waterbenders here, though, and consequently, no healers or hospitals." He sighs. "The nearest hospital is down near the power plant, which is a little less than an hour away by train—and if someone's hurt badly enough to need a healer, they won't survive that trip."

"Did you suggest building a hospital here to the Council?" I inquire.

"Yes, of course." The man shoots me an indignant look, but his harsh expression quickly morphs into a despondent one. "The Council's decision was that we've just got to make do with what we have—or, more accurately, with what we _don't_ have—because healers are spread thin enough in the city."

"Well, what if they visited the neighborhood?" I suggest. "I mean, surely if they saw—."

"It doesn't _matter_ , kid," the man interrupts me. "We're not one of the more influential neighborhoods, so the Council will never help us." He snorts. "Councilman Sokka tried to get the others on the Council to agree to building a small hospital here, but his proposition was rejected because the other councilmembers were afraid that none of the healers would be willing to be transferred—and they can't exactly _force_ people to move here, you know?"

He leans back against the rubble and closes his eyes, which allows me to observe him. He doesn't look more than thirty, but his hair is already graying and he's got wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.

_I guess living here is aging him_ , I think as he releases a breath that sounds a lot like a sigh.

_Did he fall asleep?_

"We can't blame the Council, though," he continues.

_I guess not… but he's awfully close to falling asleep!_ I think. The man's slumped posture and gravelly voice are all the evidence I need to conclude that his body is surrendering to his fatigue despite his mind's contrary wishes.

"We all know as well as the councilmembers that there are no benders who are willing to move here and that a forced relocation of citizens is legally and morally wrong." He leans further back against the rubble and glances at me, then folds his hands behind his head and turns to stare straight ahead again. "We're not equal, and we never will be—and benders know that as well as we do," he continues. "They know that if they move here, they'll be doing the brunt of the work. We can carry our own weight, but as much as we wish we could, we can't carry the weight of a one-ton boulder."

_Do all nonbenders wish they were benders?_ I wonder as the man's last sentence repeats itself in my mind.

"Uncle Wing!"

I'm drawn out of my cogitations as the little girl from earlier in the night—Lei Lee—comes up to us. There are tears in her eyes.

"She's gone, isn't she?" the man—Wing—asks, presumably so that the child doesn't have to force the ugly words out of her mouth.

She nods and dives into his lap. He catches his niece and stares over her shoulder at the woman's lifeless body.

After a minute, he turns to me. "Welcome to the Dragon Flats borough," he says (without even the faintest hint of a smile) before he stands up and, still holding Lei Lee in his arms, walks away.

As I watch the two of them disappear into the darkness of the night, I can't help but wonder if Lei Lee's father has been prematurely taken away from her, too. The mere _thought_ that that sweet little girl might now be an orphan makes me want to vomit, but by concentrating on the slowly-fainting smell of smoke, I manage to refrain.

_This isn't the Republic City I know._

I wish I could dispel that thought as easily as I did the thought about Lei Lee's father, but I can't—and that's because this thought is staring me in the face. As I stare at the silhouettes of broken streetlights, fire-damaged buildings, and puddles of polluted water, I can't help but acknowledge with a heavy heart this is _not_ the Republic City I know and love.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Did you know her well?"

The girl lifts her head from her knees to look at me, and I stare down at her. She had been one of the girls tending to Lei Lee's now-late mother—Wing's sister or sister-in-law, I guess—and although almost everyone else has gone home in the fifteen or so minutes that the fire's been extinguished, this girl has been sitting here with her knees against her chest since before Lei Lee came up to Wing and me. She doesn't look more than twelve years old, and she's barefoot, which suggests that she's poorer than the other people I've encountered so far.

"Yeah," she answers. "Yi Ling owned the shop on the second floor of the building, and I helped her run it… but now it's gone…" She blinks back a couple of tears and bites her lip. "And no shop means no job… and no job means no money… and no money means no Mama…"

I shoot her a confused look.

"My mom is sick," she explains. "My dad died in an accident at work a couple years ago, but we were able to get by because Mama owned a shop 'round here… but after she got sick she couldn't work as much, so we didn't make as much money as we did before. When we were no longer able to pay the Agni Kai Triad their protection money, though, they burned down Mama's shop—just like they did Yi Ling's." She gestures towards the building that was on fire before, then casts her eyes downwards again. "I figured it would just get burned down again since Mama was getting sicker and we were making less and less money every week, so I didn't ask anyone to rebuild our shop. I just found work at Yi Ling's shop instead." She wipes her eyes, and as I look at her I see her jaw quiver. "I was making enough to buy food for Mama and me and to get some of the cheaper medicine from the hospital down by the power plant," she adds, "but now… without the shop…" She buries her head in her knees again and starts—or resumes—crying.

_This girl shouldn't be responsible for feeding her family and keeping her mother alive. Does she even go to school?_ I think, anger coursing through me.

I crouch down beside the girl. _Why don't the police do anything about the Agni Kais? Why won't the Council even_ try _to build a hospital here?_ I stare at her for a couple of seconds, then reach into the pocket of my pants and pull out two pink paper bills worth ten yuans each, as well as seven gold coins, each worth one yuan. "Here."

When the girl lifts her head, I drop the money into her lap. "It's not a lot," I apologize, "but it's all I have on me right now. I hope it helps."

She stares down at the cash in her lap. "I can get some of the better medicine with this!" she exclaims. "Hmm… maybe _that_ medicine will make Mama better? Ooh! I could also use this to pay for a healing session for Mama!" She turns towards me, smiling broadly. "Do you think the healers at the hospital would let me work to pay off the rest of the cost of a healing session?"

I don't have the heart to tell her that I don't think the hospital will accept bargaining of any sort, so I just shrug in response.

She doesn't seem to notice. She just stuffs the bills and coins into her jacket, then gives me a hug. "Thank you," she says, her voice muffled because her face is nuzzled against my stomach.

"You're welcome." I break the embrace, then stare down at her again. "Do you want me to walk you home?" I ask, suddenly concerned about her safety because if the Agni Kais burned down that building, like this girl says they did, they could still be nearby, lurking in the shadows.

"No, I'll be alright. I live down the street," she answers. She points down the block, but it's too dark for me to see the house she's gesturing to.

"Well… alright," I say, deciding to trust her. "Goodnight, then—and good luck with… well, everything."

She blushes. "Thanks."

She turns around to walk home, but I stop her before she can take even a single step. "Wait!" I cry.

She turns around and looks at me expectantly.

"If you ever find yourself in the downtown district, go to Kya Memorial Hospital and tell whoever's at the desk that Bumi sent you to find Master Katara."

She stares at me, wide-eyed. "You mean… you're… B-Bumi?" she stammers. "You're Avatar Aang's son?"

"Yeah…" I answer hesitantly, unsure where she's going with this.

She drops to her knees and bows with her arms outstretched and her hands on the ground in front of her. I stare at her, shocked, for a second, then laugh and tell her that there's no reason for her to be bowing to me and that she should just get on home to her mother. She stands up and bows to me again, then hurries down the street.

Once the darkness eclipses her figure, I start walking in the direction of the train station. It's late, and I've got to get home.

_Should I go home and try to sneak onto the island, past the White Lotus guards, and risk getting the scolding of a lifetime, or should I just crash at Haiyang's house and deal with the consequences of coming here tonight tomorrow?_ I wonder as I step over a snow bank.

"Such a generous kid!"

I stop, one foot still poised above the ground. My eyes are all but useless in the darkness, so I listen.

_"Shut up about not being able to see, Bumi!" Aunt Toph scolded. "Quit fiddling with that blindfold and_ listen _!"_

_"What am I supposed to be listening to?"_

_"Me!"_

_"You're annoyingly loud, Aunt Toph," I grumbled. "It's hard_ not _to listen to you."_

_A couple of seconds passed, but she offered me no snarky retort—so I reached a hand up to remove the blindfold she'd wrapped around my eyes a few minutes before so that I could see if she was still around._

_"I'll earthbend you right off this island if you remove that blindfold."_

_I returned my hand to the hilt of my sword._

_"Where am I, Bumi?" she asked._

_"I don't know!" I cried indignantly. "I can't see anything!"_

_"You can't see anything because you're not listening!"_

_I stood still for a couple of seconds, but I heard nothing. "Agni, Aunt Toph," I whined, lowering my sword. "I don't hear anything."_

_She answered me by chucking a rock at me—a rock which promptly knocked me on my ass._

_"Hey!"_

_"I told you to listen. I didn't tell you to let your guard down," she growled. "You better block the rock next time, kid. If I hurt you, Sugar Queen is going to fight me—and I'm not in the mood to beat your mother to a pulp."_

_I chuckled at her old nickname for Mom, then got back into the basic stance Uncle Sokka had taught me and resumed listening._

_I had no idea what I was listening to or for until I heard it. I heard the ever-so-soft sound of feet shifting positions on gravelly ground. I heard the sound of Aunt Toph releasing a breath… about fifteen feet from me, and off to my left. I heard—and felt—the subtle change in the air currents as something was lifted into the air. I could tell it was something big because it blocked the air from coming at me from the left… and because I could hear it whizzing through the air on its way towards me._

_I heard it all, and it sounded incredible._

_I stepped to the right, my sword still raised, and listened again; almost immediately, I heard something big crash into the ground where I had been standing just a moment ago._

_The air settled again, and for a couple of seconds, the only noise was the distant sound of the waves crashing against the dock—but then I heard the distinctive sound of a foot stomping the ground._

_I could feel the ground a couple feet in front of me—and slightly to the right—shake, so I moved to the left. I "watched" the ripple traverse the ground, destroying the space where I had stood just a second ago._

_And then a small rock slammed into me._

_"Stop focusing on an attack you've already dodged," Aunt Toph instructed. "You can't let yourself get distracted."_

I hear snow crunching beneath someone's feet. The sound is loud, which tells me that it's coming from a nearby source. I also hear a soft rustling sound—perhaps someone's long hair beating against their jacket?—and the sound of cracking knuckles. It isn't until I feel the air around me get warmer that I register who's stalking me, though.

_Agni Kais._

The air to my left seems warmer than the air to my right, so after I drop my duffel bag on the ground I turn towards the left. "Why are you here?" I ask, drawing my fists to my chest as I was taught to do during one of my first boxing lessons all those years ago. "What do you want?"

I watch as three men, each dressed in clothes of varying shades of red, step out from where they had been hiding behind a snow bank. The man in the middle is nursing a small flame in the palm of his upturned hand, confirming my suspicion that the three are members of the Agni Kai Triad—or, at the very least, firebenders.

"I told you I saw the Avatar's son at the building, Boss! Look!"

"You were right, Jirou," the man in the middle admits. "I'm glad you stayed to watch."

"You're not going to get away with setting that building on fire!" I warn them. "I'll make sure of it!"

"Oh, I'm shaking," the man in the middle—the leader of the trio, I assume—sneers.

"Do you think stealing from innocent people and ruining people's lives is fun?" I ask, glowering at the gang while keeping my fists raised. "Do you consider killing people a productive hobby?"

"We consider it a job—a way to make money," the leader responds. "But don't worry. You're worth more alive." He smirks at me, then glances between his two sidekicks and nods as if giving an order—and one and a half seconds later, I'm surrounded by fire.

I weave in between fire jabs, concentrating on the heat that warms the air around me instead of on the gang members; I care more about the size and location of their flames than I do about them and their positions.

I jump over an intertwined fire stream the leader of the trio sends towards me, then dodge another fire jab from the man called Jirou. The man on my right attempts to grab hold of me with a fire whip, but I sidestep it. I retrieve my boomerang from the sheath on my back and chuck it at him; then, confident that the weapon will make contact with the man's head, I turn my attention back towards the other two gang members. The trio's leader thrusts his fist towards the ground, sending towards me an explosive burst of fire that only increases in size as it travels the short distance between us. I jump over it, but the blazing ring singes the hem of my pants.

"Ow! What the—?"

I grin and catch my returning boomerang.

Jirou sends another fire jab at me, which he immediately follows with a large stream of fire. I duck and block it as best as I can with my arms so that it doesn't set fire to my shirt, but the stream sears my skin and sends me crashing to the ground.

_I can beat the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation in a fight, but not three Agni Kai Triad members?_ I think as I scramble to my feet. _I mean, sure, I'm exhausted and this is a three-on-one fight, but still. I shouldn't be losing this battle._

The trio's leader raises his hands, and the flames surrounding me increase in both size and intensity. _Crud._

I swallow the fear I can feel bubbling within me and get out of the way of the flames of his charged attack, but the flames from another fire jab sent from the gang member whose name I don't know singe my sleeve.

_Stop focusing on an attack you've already dodged. You can't let yourself get distracted._

Aunt Toph's words from a couple of months ago repeat themselves again in my mind, but to little avail. I'm losing right now because as soon as I dodge one attack, I'm met with another. I've got enemies on three sides, and every time I sense an attack and evade it, I unwittingly step right into another.

_The easiest way to lose a fight is to get discouraged._

_You're going to be okay, aren't you, Mommy? You have to be! You can't die!_

I cannot lose.

I _will not_ lose.

I glance at the man nearest me—the man whose name I don't know—and watch as he creates an arc of fire with a single, sweeping arm movement. There's a slight hesitation in his right arm—and that's enough for me.

I get a knife out from underneath my tunic, then pin his left arm—his _stronger_ arm—to the wooden utility pole a couple of feet behind him and charge his right side. I'm at his side before any of the gang members can send even a single fire jab towards me.

He growls at me and summons a fire dagger to his fist, but before he can threaten me with it I pin his weaker arm to the pole—and then, just for good measure, I grab the belt tied loosely around his waist and use it to tie his body to the utility pole, too.

_One down, two to go_ , I think smugly.

I turn around, weapons in hand, to face the other two criminals and see four grown men—including one who looks like Wing—fighting the leader and the one called Jirou.

_When did they come?_ I wonder. _And how did I not hear them arrive?_

"Uh… Wing?"

I watch as the man blocks Jirou's fire jab and weaves in between others until he's close enough to Jirou to bring the firebender's arms behind him and shove him against the ground. He gets on top of Jirou, using his body weight to hold the criminal down, then glances in my direction. "Hey, kid," he grunts, confirming my suspicion that the man is, indeed, Wing.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, glancing between Wing and the other three men, who are engaged in a fight against the leader of the trio.

"You helped _us_ before, so we're helping _you_ now," he responds. "We've got your back."

_The Equalists stand behind you!_

"Oh. Well, thanks," I mumble, more appreciative than I sound.

I glance over at Wing's friends again, and just as I start to walk over to help them, four carriages—each pulled by a dragon moose imported from the Fire Nation—storm the street. When the drivers step out, we learn that they're cops affiliated with Aunt Toph's Metalbending Police Force.

"Freeze! Police!" one of them calls.

I stop where I am.

The cop standing closest to us glances over his shoulder at three of the seven officers behind him. "You three, apprehend the Agni Kais," he orders.

I watch as leader of the Agni Kai trio is escorted into one carriage while Jirou and the other criminal are escorted into another.

"And everyone else," the same cop adds. "We're taking _all_ of these guys to the station."

"What?!" we all screech. "We didn't do anything!"

"You're disrupting the peace!"

"We're _keeping_ the peace!" one of Wing's friends growls.

"Shh, Shang," Wing sighs, watching helplessly as the cops handcuff him and his friends, then escort them all into the carriages that don't contain the criminals. "You'll stay in jail longer if you resist."

_How does he know that? Does this happen often?_

"You, too, kid," the arresting officer snarls, glaring at me with contempt in his eyes. "Get into the carriage."

"You can't arrest me!" I cry, taking a step back. "You can't arrest _any_ of us! We didn't do anything wrong!"

"Are you resisting arrest, kid?"

"No, but—."

The cop answers me by metalbending one of the cables out of the spool at his hip and around one of my wrists.

"You can't arrest me!" I repeat, glancing from the cable to the officer. "Do you know who I _am_?"

"I don't _care_ who you are," he responds. "I don't care to get to know _thugs_."

"What?!" I screech. "I'm no _thug_! The only thugs are those three Agni Kai Triad guys! They burned down a building, killing an innocent woman, and tried to _kidnap_ me!"

"Yeah, yeah," the officer snarls, bending a second cable around my other wrist and yanking me forward. He handcuffs me, then, after bending the cables back into the spool at his hip, shoves me into the carriage holding Wing.

"So… first time getting arrested, kid?" Wing jokes as the officer climbs into the driver's seat and snaps the reins attached to the dragon moose.

"You can't treat us like this!" I shout, ignoring Wing and glaring at the back of the cop's head.

He doesn't respond, but Wing does.

"Yes, kid, they can."


	6. Reasons

"This can't be happening." I glance out into the corridor, but all I see is the sleeping inmate in the cell opposite mine. I can hear some guards whispering down the hall, but aside from them, Police Headquarters is quiet. It's nearing midnight, and the majority of the cops have already gone home for the night.

"Where is he?!"

_Aunt Toph!_

"Chief Beifong? What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Officer Yoshi. You've met my daughter before, right? Good. I've got to go deal with a regrettable mistake, so keep an eye on her—but be careful. It took me over an hour to get Lin to go to sleep, so if you wake her up, I'm firing you."

When Aunt Toph comes into my line of sight a minute later, I almost don't recognize her. She's still dressed in her pajamas—although she's wearing a coat over her nightgown—and her long black hair is out of her trademark bun.

"Hello, Bumi."

"Hi."

I watch as an officer I don't recognize walks up to Aunt Toph and holds out to her a sheet of paper. "Here's the arrest report you asked for, Chief Beifong," he says.

Aunt Toph shoves the paper into the officer's chest, then slaps him upside the head. "I'm _blind_ , you idiot!" she growls. "What does it say? Why is the Avatar's son sitting in a damned jail cell?"

"Umm…" the cop mumbles as he smooths out the wrinkles in the paper. "It seems that he and the four men in the adjacent cell were arrested in the Dragon Flats borough at approximately 10:30 PM for… uh, for disrupting the peace by engaging in a street brawl with three Agni Kais and for resisting arrest."

"Who was the arresting officer?" Aunt Toph inquires, her sightless eyes blazing with as much emotion as would anyone else's.

"Officer Chin."

Aunt Toph snatches the arrest report from the cop. "Go tell Officer Chin I want to see him _right now_ ," she demands, her upper lip curling into a snarl.

He scurries down the corridor, and Aunt Toph orders all of the other cops and guards out of the hall, too. She begins to rip the arrest report to shreds as soon as the last guard scrambles out of sight. "What were you doing in the Dragon Flats borough so late, Bumi?" she demands.

"Well, I… uh…"

She rolls her eyes. "I can tell when someone's lying, so don't even bother."

"I just wanted to see what it was like there," I answer. "And I didn't want to go home after my boxing class. I didn't want to have to deal with my parents."

"You _do_ know that Aang is on his way here right now, don't you?" Aunt Toph responds.

"Yeah, I know," I sigh.

She stuffs the fragments of the arrest report in her pocket, then turns to stare at me, one hand on her hip. "What happened between you and the Agni Kais?" she asks.

"Well, as I was walking back to the train station, the three that were arrested with us tried to kidnap me. The leader of the trio said that my parents would be willing to pay a lot in ransom to get me back," I start. "We got into a fight. I pinned one of them down, and when I turned back around to face the other two, I saw that the guys in that cell…" I gesture towards the adjacent cell, where Wing and his three friends are being held, "had come to help me. I didn't even get to thank them for coming to my rescue before the cops arrived and started handcuffing us all…"

"Oh… okay."

"Okay?" I repeat. "You're not going to say anything but 'okay'?"

Aunt Toph rubs her temples and glances down the corridor, towards the door that would lead her back to Lin. "I'd been asleep for almost two hours when Officer Qing's knocking woke me up. I was about to kill him for disturbing me when he blurted out that the Avatar's son had been taken into custody." She glares at me. "I grabbed Lin and ran here to figure out what the spirit-loving _hell_ is going on. I'm _still_ half asleep, but I'm gonna have to talk to your father and explain a situation I barely understand myself." She jabs a finger through the cell bars, into my chest. "So _yes_ , Bumi, all I'm going to say is 'okay.'"

I don't have time to respond before the arrogant officer who arrested me scurries over to us. "You wanted to see me, Chief?" he asks nervously.

"Yes. Good work apprehending the Agni Kais. I want completed arrest reports on those three—complete with as many charges as we can possibly tack on them—by noon tomorrow." She smiles artificially at Officer Chin, then gestures towards me and the men in the adjacent cell. "Can you tell me why you arrested Bumi and those other men?" she asks.

"Well, they were fighting in the street—."

"Do you know what or _who_ started the fight?"

"No…"

"I didn't think so," Aunt Toph growls. "You wrote in the arrest report that they were disrupting the peace, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any evidence?" Aunt Toph asks. "Complaints about the noise? Damage to city property? Disruptions to public services?"

"Well… no, I don't."

"Okay. You also wrote that he resisted arrest. What did he do?"

"He was… just… you know… _resisting_ ," Officer Chin grumbles. "He was walking away and he protested being handcuffed."

"Do you know anyone who _wants_ to be handcuffed, Officer Chin?"

"Well, no, but—."

"Chief Beifong?" someone outside my line of sight says. "Avatar Aang is here to pick up his son."

"Okay," Aunt Toph responds, not bothering to turn in the direction of the voice. "I'd like to speak to him, so please tell him to wait out there for me. I'll be with him in a minute."

When the door closes again, Aunt Toph returns her attention to Officer Chin. "Release them all," she commands. "And I _don't_ mean the Agni Kais, you dunderhead."

"But—."

"Did I stutter, Officer Chin?" Aunt Toph snarls. "I said 'release them all.'" She glares at the subordinate officer with startling accuracy. "You _will_ release them, and then you'll drop the charges against them—and next time you're patrolling the Dragon Flats borough, _don't_ arrest people who haven't done anything wrong. If there were no complaints from uninvolved citizens and if there was no destruction of property or disruption of services, don't arrest them. I won't hesitate to throw your ass under the trolley if the Metalbending Police Force gets criticized for wrongfully arresting citizens. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Chief," Officer Chin gulps. He retrieves a key from one of the compartments on his belt, unlocks the door to my cell, and then steps in front of the cell holding Wing and the other three men.

"You're all free to go. I'll… um… escort you to where you can pick up your belongings," he says as the men file out of the cell.

The three whose names I don't know follow Officer Chin, but Wing hesitates. "Good luck with everything, k—uh, I mean… Bumi," he stammers. He bows to me, then scurries after his friends.

_I've never missed being called "kid" so much_ , I think as I watch him disappear into another room.

_You have connections and a sphere of influence that extends far beyond that of the average person's._

I turn back towards Aunt Toph, Da Zan's words almost like bad background music to me. "Did… would you have let them go if I wasn't with them?" I ask.

"I don't know," she answers, shrugging. "I doubt it. When you're the Chief of Police, it's best to err on the side of caution, so I doubt I would have released them—so soon, at least. I had to let them go just now, though. I couldn't _just_ let _you_ go. I'm not allowed to play favorites."

_If it wasn't for my connection to Aunt Toph, Wing and the other Dragon Flats residents would still be sitting in jail. Da Zan was right._

"I'm going to go talk to your dad, Bumi," Aunt Toph announces. "Stay here. I'll send Aang in once I'm confident he won't kill you."

"Okay."

_I have a sphere of influence that other nonbenders don't have… so what am I going to do with it?_ I wonder. _How can I use my connections to help them?_

I watch Aunt Toph walk out, then sit back down on the cot in the cell I was locked in just a few minutes ago. _I wish I could stay here_ , I think as I attempt to pick up on the conversation Aunt Toph is having with Dad in the other room. _I don't want to go home. I don't want to deal with my parents. They won't understand._

* * * * * * * * * *

"Dad…" I murmur, desperate. "Say something. _Anything._ "

"We'll talk when we get home."

I sigh and sit back against the saddle on Appa's back to listen to the insufferable silence. I see my mother standing outside with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for us, before I really see Air Temple Island.

_This isn't going to be pretty_ , I realize, hopping down from the saddle and summoning all the courage I have to meet Mom's livid gaze.

"Hello, Bumi."

"Hi…"

She stares at me, and despite the dark, I can see her veins throbbing. _She's furious._

"You went to the Dragon Flats borough after your boxing class ended, got into a fight with the Agni Kai Triad, and were arrested. Do I have my facts straight?" she says after some time.

"Yes…"

"I'm disappointed in you, Bumi."

_When are you not?_ I wonder bitterly.

"You were well aware that part of your punishment for talking to reporters was that you weren't allowed to go anywhere in the city except to your school and to Master Esen's school, but you didn't listen—and you went to the _Dragon Flats borough_ of all places!" She shakes her head. "I'm not even going to talk about your being arrested. If I have to explain why I'm shocked and disappointed that you were arrested tonight, I've failed as a parent." She shoots me a condemning look, and I shrink under it.

"You know your father isn't a disciplinarian, Bumi," Mom continues. "If it were up to Aang, the only addition to your current punishment would be the condition that a White Lotus sentry would accompany you wherever you go to make sure you can't pull a stunt like this again. You _clearly_ don't listen to your father, though, so I'm taking control of the reins now. If you're smart, you'll listen to _me_."

I gulp. "What… what's my punishment?"

"We're taking your weapons," she answers.

"You're _what_?!" I screech.

"We're taking your weapons," she repeats. "We're taking _all_ of them."

I turn around to look at Dad and watch as he airbends himself off Appa's back. He's got a large bag—with all the weapons I'd brought with me tonight, presumably—in his hand.

"I've cleaned your room of weapons, too," Mom announces, "so don't bother running off to go look."

I turn back around to face her. "You… you can't do this!" I yell.

"Yes, I can—and I _will_ , and I _am_ ," Mom replies.

_She's… taking… all my weapons. All of them! I'm… defenseless._

"You're leaving me defenseless!" I shout accusingly.

"Well, maybe not having any weapons on you at all will make you think twice about who you talk to, where you go, and what you do," Mom responds.

"You can't do this!" I repeat, clenching my hands into fists. "You can't…"

I glare at her, too irate to form a sentence or even think straight. I stand there, seething with rage, for about a minute, until I'm confident that I can form a relatively coherent thought.

"You're just going to stand there in silence?" I demand, turning to glare at Dad and ignoring the fact that my voice just hitched. "You're going to let her do this to me?"

"You're not invincible, Bumi. You have to realize that," Dad responds. "We hope that… well, that forcing you to confront your own vulnerability will help you do that."

"I _know_ I'm vulnerable!" I cry indignantly. "If I didn't believe it before, then fighting three firebenders tonight showed me that I'm _far_ from invincible. I was _losing_ the fight!" I cross my arms over my chest and glower at my parents. "I'm no less vulnerable than any bender if I have my weapons—but without them…" I shake my head, then continue. "You're leaving me defenseless, totally _helpless_! You're throwing me to the wolves and putting me entirely at their mercy! What kind of parents do that to their _child_?"

"We're not—."

"Yes, you are!"

"You've been so aggressive and recalcitrant lately, Bumi," Dad opines. He wraps an arm around Mom's waist and stares at me impassively. "We can't let you be—."

"Aggressive? Recalcitrant?" I interrupt. "I went to see what the Equalists are complaining about. I figured I owed them at least an open ear since I'm their damned hero." I glare at Dad. "If you consider _that_ 'aggressive' and 'recalcitrant,' it's no wonder you think the Equalists are terrorists!"

"Oh, bleeding hog monkeys, Bumi, don't tell me you _support_ the Equalists!" Dad cries.

"I didn't know enough about them to support them at first, but you're pushing me further and further into their open arms," I answer angrily.

"What?!" Dad screeches. "How am I—?"

"Shh, Aang," Mom murmurs. She exhales a breath and glances up at the moonless sky, then fixes her gaze on me again. "You went to the Dragon Flats borough tonight to see what the Equalists are protesting?" she asks.

"Well… I wanted to see what it was like over there," I answer.

"Why?"

"I've never been there before. I'm fifteen years old and I've never ventured outside of the downtown district—and that's not right," I explain. "It's not right for me to call only the 'good' areas of Republic City home. I can't—I _won't_ —live my life in the _bubble_ you and Dad want to keep me in."

"We don't try to keep you in a bubble!" Mom objects.

"Yes, you do," I argue. "You want to keep me on this island or in the downtown district, where crime is sparse and you're around to protect me. You don't think I can protect myself."

"We don't think that at—."

"You wouldn't let me go to the Dragon Flats borough when I asked last year because it's controlled by the Agni Kai Triad and you believed that I had no means of protecting myself from them."

"I just meant that—."

"You just meant that because I can't bend, I can't defend myself against a bunch of firebenders," I interrupt. "You just meant that it would be dangerous for me, a nonbender, to go to a neighborhood controlled by firebending thugs—and you were right! It _was_ dangerous. It was dangerous and _stupid_ , and the Dragon Flats borough is _disgusting_ and _filthy_ and _sad_. Do you want to know what happened while I was there, Mom? Agni Kais set fire to a building, which resulted in one woman _burning to death_ , and then tried to _kidnap_ me so that they could collect ransom!

"You thought it was dangerous for _me_ , but what about all those other people? What about all of those other nonbenders—nonbenders who _don't_ have the means or money to learn how to box or wield a sword? What about all the innocent nonbenders there who die by the dozens every month in fires they can't escape from, or from sheer _exhaustion_ after working sixteen hours a day _every day of the week_ because they have to excavate rocks without earthbending and attempt to extinguish fires without waterbending or firebending? It's dangerous for _them_ , too, but you don't care about _them_ , do you?

"I went to the Dragon Flats borough tonight because I wanted to see it for myself," I continue. "I wanted to see what kind of utter _shit_ is happening to innocent people. I wanted to see what _you_ and every other _bender_ in this city is turning a blind eye to. I thought that maybe—just _maybe_ —you would listen to _me_ , since you clearly don't listen to _them_ … but I guess I was wrong."

The silence that follows my rant is almost deafening.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Bumi," Mom says after a couple of seconds, her tone indignant. "We care deeply about what's going on in the Dragon Flats borough."

"You'd _do_ something if you _really_ cared," I growl. "I watched a girl no older than Tenzin become an orphan as her mother died _in her arms_ , and I talked to a girl who, although she was barely older than Kya, had the responsibility of working and making sure her sick mother didn't die and leave _her_ orphaned, too. I watched, helpless, as innocent men who were just coming to my defense— _me_ , a kid one barely knew and the other three didn't know _at all_ —were arrested by a cop who called them thugs, altogether unconcerned with why they—why _we_ —were brawling in the street at half past ten o'clock." I shoot her a look as harsh as the one she shot me before, then add, "tell me when you actually _do something_ about that, Mom, because until then, I have no interest in what you have to say."

I start walking in the direction of the boys' dormitory.

"What are you doing? We're not done talking to you, Bumi!" Mom shouts.

"Well, _I'm_ done talking to _you_!" I snarl, waving my hand dismissively at her.

"Come back here!"

I continue walking inland.

"Stop!"

I ignore her.

"I said 'stop!'"

I don't stop… until, out of nowhere, a water whip wraps around my ankle. It swivels my body until I'm facing my parents, then forces me to the ground. I don't even have time to get up before I'm encased in ice.

I stare open-mouthed at Mom.

_She… she waterbent at me!_

"Katara!" Dad shouts.

"I…" Mom stares at her hands, then returns them to her sides. The ice trapping me immediately melts. "I… I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Bumi, I… I'm sorry…"

_She just… why would she do that?_

"I'm sorry, Bumi," Mom repeats. She falls to her knees and looks at me with a desperate expression. "I'm so, so sorry…"

I turn my back to her so that she can't see the tears streaming down my face. "I was safer in jail," I whisper.

I hear Mom sobbing, but I don't turn around. _She can cry all she wants_ , I think as I start running towards my now-weaponless bedroom. _It won't change anything. She proved to me that I'm not safe around benders—even if they're my family._

After I've put a good bit of distance between my parents and myself, I glance back at the two of them. Mom is on her knees, sobbing, and Dad is crouched down beside her, attempting to comfort her.

_I don't care what the consequences are_ , I decide, turning back around and walking the last couple of steps to the dormitory. _I'm going to go find Da Zan and ask him to teach me the art of chi blocking… while it's still legal to learn it._

I refuse to be left defenseless.


	7. Straight-Talking Sokka

"Bumi! Where are you?"

I lean back against the trunk of the tree, but it won't be long until Mom finds me. The leaves on the trees haven't grown back yet, so there's nothing separating Mom and me.

She spots me within seconds. "Come down from there, Bumi," she commands, her hands on her hips. "We've got company."

"I don't care."

"Did I just hear my nephew say he doesn't care about me?"

"Uncle Sokka!" I exclaim, running out to greet him before I remember that I'm in a tree and can't run out to greet him.

"Ow!" I whine, grasping my ankle as I make contact with the ground a dozen feet or so below the branch on which I was just sitting.

"Bumi!" Mom cries. "Are you okay?" She gathers around her hands water from the water skin at her hip. "Come here. Let me take a look at your ankle."

I scramble to my feet and dart behind Uncle Sokka. "No! Don't touch me!" I cry, grabbing onto Uncle's blue tunic and burying my face in his upper back.

Uncle Sokka shoots Mom a quizzical look but stays silent.

"Aang and I will be in the kitchen," Mom tells him. She sighs and returns the water to the water skin. "Come in whenever, Sokka."

She disappears into the house, and Uncle Sokka shoots me a curious look. "What was that about?" he asks. "Why are you afraid of your mother?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest and shifting my gaze to the ground.

He stares at me suspiciously for a second, then shrugs. "Okay. You want to tell me about your getting arrested the other night, then?"

I look up at him. "Who told you I got arrested?"

"Aang told me while we were talking after the council meeting today." He smirks. "I paid Toph a visit afterwards, though, to find out what _really_ happened."

I grin, but my grin fades almost immediately. "Are you disappointed in me?" I ask.

"You shouldn't have been walking around the Dragon Flats borough so late at night, but no, I'm not disappointed in you," he answers. "Why would I be? You stood up against a couple of thugs who had terrorized the neighborhood and were trying to kidnap you; and that makes me proud. It's not _your_ fault you were wrongfully arrested."

I glance at the house. "My parents think it is. They're convinced that my sole ambition in life is to get in trouble." I blink back a couple of tears threatening to fall and turn back to Uncle Sokka. "They took away all my weapons as punishment," I tell him. The words taste every bit as bitter today as they did three days ago. "They said I have to confront my vulnerability… but I do that every day, Uncle."

"Yes, you do," Uncle Sokka responds. He tugs gently on his goatee. "They asked me to come here today," he informs me. "They're worried about you, Bumi."

"They're not _worried_ about me, Uncle. They just don't know what to _do_ with me." I sigh. "I can see their confusion on their faces. It's right there alongside the disappointment, regret, and shame."

"Aang and Katara _love_ you, Bumi," Uncle Sokka counters. "They don't regret having you, and they're neither ashamed of nor disappointed in you."

"How do you explain Mom saying _flat-out_ that she's disappointed in me, then?" I challenge.

"She's probably disappointed that her parenting style isn't working with you," Uncle answers, carefully running his fingers through his wolftail. "I mean, your parents' _entire lives_ revolve around bending, Bumi, so dealing with and disciplining a nonbender are… _challenging_ tasks for them. They're failing miserably because they're making equivalencies that aren't equal at all—but that's _their_ problem, not yours."

"You mean it's their fault?" I ask, not even entirely sure what the "it" I'm talking about is.

"I don't think anything is anyone's fault." He glances over his shoulder, at the house, then returns his gaze to me. "It's not your parents' fault that they can't relate to a nonbender, and it's not your fault that, in trying to make it in a world where benders often have an advantage over us regular folk, you sometimes get into trouble." He smiles warmly at me. "You're as free-spirited as your father and as stubborn as your mother… and those are two traits that will get you into trouble more often than not." He chuckles, but his countenance quickly becomes serious again. "It's who you are, though, and your parents have to accept and embrace that—because until they do, their relationship with you will continue to be… tempestuous."

I glance down at the ground for a second, then give Uncle Sokka a big hug. "Thank you, Uncle," I say, my voice muffled because my face is against his neck. "You get it. You get _me_."

"You're a lot like me, too, kid," he chuckles. He ruffles my hair, then steps back and glances at the house again. "I'll see if I can knock some sense into their thick skulls," he says. "I won't make any promises… but I'll do what I can."

"You always do," I respond, smiling for the first time in what seems like forever.

I watch as Uncle Sokka disappears into the house, then race across the island to the area outside the kitchen. I crouch down beneath the windowsill, taking care to not make any noise. I want to hear the conversation between my parents and Uncle Sokka, but I don't want to get in trouble for eavesdropping—which I _will_ , if my parents hear or see me.

"Do you want a drink, Sokka?" Mom asks as Uncle Sokka enters the room.

"No. I want us to skip the small talk and cut to the chase," Uncle answers curtly. "Why is Bumi scared of you? What did you do to him, Katara?"

I can just about _hear_ Mom grimace.

"I waterbent at him when I lost my temper the other night," she answers reluctantly.

"She tripped him with a water whip and then trapped him in ice," Dad explains further.

"Katara!" Uncle Sokka exclaims. "How could you…?"

"Thanks, Aang." I imagine Mom rolling her eyes at Dad, then turning back to face her brother. "It was wrong, I know. I apologized and let him go immediately. He had this heartbreaking look of utter betrayal on his face and…" She sighs. "I was furious, and I did it in the heat of the moment. I mean, he'd just gotten arrested, and he was walking away from us when we weren't done talking to him…" She exhales a breath that sounds a lot like another sigh. "I know that doesn't justify what I did, but… well, I don't see why he's _so_ upset about it. I mean, I waterbend at you _all the time_ , Sokka, and _you_ don't get upset!"

"It's not the same, Katara."

"Why not?" Mom demands.

"We're brother and sister, not mother and son," Uncle Sokka answers. "Does he get upset when Kya waterbends at him? No—because Kya is his _sister_ , and siblings fight all the time. _You_ , on the other hand, are his _mother_. You're not supposed to hit him _at all_ , much less use your _bending_ against him. He's supposed to be safe with you, but you showed him that you're willing to use against him an advantage you have that he doesn't. You could have done more damage, sure, but that's besides the point. The point is that you were willing to do _something_. He's afraid you'll take it a step further and unleash on him some massive attack using your magic water if you get angry again. He's avoiding you because he doesn't want to risk angering you again—because so long as you can waterbend, Katara, you're more powerful than him. You're more powerful than him… and apparently you're willing to exploit your power—and that's wrong."

_Uncle Sokka explained it perfectly_ , I think, wiping tears from my cheeks.

"I admitted that it was wrong and I said I was sorry. I shouldn't have done it, and I've apologized a hundred times since then… but Bumi doesn't care. He won't come near me, and he won't listen to me." I hear some shuffling, and then the sound of Mom sighing again. "I wouldn't use my waterbending to hurt him. He's my son. I love him. A piece of my heart belongs entirely to him. I would never—."

"You already _did_ , Katara."

"Well… what am I supposed to do to _fix_ this, Sokka?" Mom asks, her voice desperate, pained.

"You have to regain his trust—but I have no idea how you can do that. He'll forgive you when he's ready to… but not a second before," Uncle Sokka answers. "You have to remember, though, that Bumi loves you, too. You're his _mother_ , after all."

"I don't think I'm qualified to be." She sighs again. "We're fifteen years into raising him and I _still_ don't know how to parent him, Sokka. I just… I don't know what to _do_ with him. It's starting to seem like Bumi hates Aang and me."

_I… I don't hate you, Mom_ , I think. _I just…_

"Well, you're not exactly making it easy for him to like you," Uncle Sokka retorts.

"What makes you say that, Sokka?" Dad demands.

"You're both acting like jerks to him," Uncle answers, giving an audible shrug. "You took all of his weapons… and you don't even realize how cruel of a thing that was to do."

"We took them so that he—."

"… will have to confront his vulnerability and think about what he's done," Uncle Sokka finishes. "Those are bullshit reasons, Aang. He confronted his vulnerability years ago… when it became clear that he wasn't a bender. He _knows_ he's not invincible. He took up boxing, the boomerang, knife throwing, and sword fighting because he wanted to be _less_ vulnerable. He just wanted to be able to defend himself—and you two took away his ability to do so. You're throwing him to the wolves—which, if I know my nephew, is probably exactly what he said."

"Come on, Sokka, don't you think that's a bit of an exaggeration?" Mom responds.

"No."

"But—."

"Did Dad or Gran-Gran ever take away my boomerang when they wanted to punish me as a kid, Katara?"

"No, but—."

"No, they didn't—because doing so would have been cruel. It was all I had to defend myself, and it was part of what made me who I was," Uncle Sokka interrupts. "The same applies to all of Bumi's weapons. He's got a wide variety, and his ability to wield each with such devastating accuracy and strength is what makes him who he is. He's a warrior, Katara... but you're trying to turn him into… well, into _you_ —which he can never be." He pauses, but quickly continues. "It's like taking away your waterbending as punishment. It's cruel. It's more than just your go-to defense mechanism; it's a part of your identity. The only difference is that yours can't be taken away and hidden in a closet somewhere."

_I said virtually the same thing!_ I think. _I hope they'll listen to Uncle Sokka and give me back my weapons…_

"We don't want to turn Bumi into some carbon copy of us," Dad objects, addressing the least important part of Uncle Sokka's speech—much to my frustration. "He's a great kid, and we want him to grow into the man he's destined to become—whoever that may be. We want that for all of our children."

_Dad thinks I'm a great kid?_

"We don't want any of them to feel pressured to be someone they're not," Dad continues. "We forbade all three of them from speaking to the press to keep that from happening, in fact. I mean, everyone expects Kya to be _exactly_ like Katara, and everyone expects Tenzin to father the next generation of airbenders…"

"And _no one_ expects _anything_ from Bumi," Uncle Sokka interjects. "He's very rarely even acknowledged as a member of this family."

"Well, that's not _our_ fault, Sokka," Mom growls indignantly.

"You're right. It's not your fault," Uncle Sokka agrees. "It's the truth, though. He's the forgotten child—and because everyone forgets he's a part of this family, no one is pressuring him to do _anything_."

"What are you getting at, Sokka?" Mom demands. "You're talking about this as if we're not also upset that the world ignores our eldest son."

"We hate it," Dad adds. "I've slammed the press on more than one occasion for ignoring the fact that we have _three_ children, as well as for saying that Bumi and Kya aren't good enough because they're not airbenders. We love all our children equally, and it hurts us that other people don't see that they're of equal worth."

_Dad's talked to the press about that?_ I marvel. _I didn't think he_ realized _that reporters did that, never mind_ cared _._

"Well, the future of an entire race of people _does_ rest in Tenzin's you-know-what," Uncle Sokka starts. "He's important—but so are his siblings. I mean, Bumi and Kya are special, too! Kya's a prodigious waterbender, and Bumi's a great fighter, as well as a strategic genius."

"I agree… but can you get to the point, Sokka?" Mom asks impatiently.

"You've taken away what makes him, him, and you're practically keeping him under lock and key on this island," Uncle Sokka says. "You're not allowing him to develop his talents, hone his skills, and show everyone how special he is. You're not letting him be who he is."

"Sokka—."

"You know he was right, right?"

"What?"

"He was right," Uncle Sokka repeats.

"What are you talking about _now_ , Sokka?" Mom demands.

"When Aang asked me to come here and give my opinion on all this, he said that Bumi had accused you both of turning a blind eye to the situation in the Dragon Flats borough. He said that he accused you of not caring—and he was right. You don't."

"What?!" Mom screeches. "How could you say we don't care! _Of course_ we care!"

"You do not. I can tell when you care about something, Katara, because when you care about something, you _do_ something," Uncle Sokka argues. "Do you remember Jang Hui? You were so disgusted with the state of that village that you put our time-sensitive schedule aside and tricked us all into thinking that Appa was sick so you could sneak off at night and do whatever you could to help that dirty village. You said you will never, _ever_ turn your back on people who need you—but guess what, Katara? You are!"

_He's practically screaming_ , I think, a little surprised by how much Uncle Sokka's voice has risen. He's usually so calm and easygoing.

"You used to go to drastic measures so long as there was even the _slightest_ chance that doing so would enable you to help other people, Katara," Uncle Sokka continues. "You got yourself arrested so that you could find and rescue Haru, and then you _refused to leave the prison ship_ until you had freed every prisoner on it. Do you remember that, sis?"

"Yes…" Mom answers softly.

"Do you remember how you refused to cross the Great Divide the easy, safe way—on Appa—because you wanted to help those two feuding tribes, Aang? Do you remember how you gave up our tickets to the ferry that went from Full Moon Bay to Ba Sing Se because that couple we had been traveling with had had their belongings stolen and you wanted to help them cross the Serpent's Pass safely?" Uncle Sokka continues, his voice still rising. "When you two want to help someone, no one and nothing can stop you—so _yes_ , I think Bumi was right when he said that you don't care. You've done _nothing_ to help the Dragon Flats borough, and the people there are suffering and _dying_ every day due, in part, to your lack of action!"

"Sokka—."

"You didn't even put up a fight when my proposal to build a hospital in the borough was shot down, Aang!"

"Well, I—."

"And Katara, _you_ didn't even _offer_ to go there or even to talk to other healers!"

"I—."

"You're both doing _nothing_ , and it's _shameful_ ," Uncle Sokka snaps. "I agree with Bumi. You're turning your backs to the Dragon Flats neighborhood."

It's silent for a couple of seconds. When Uncle Sokka speaks again, his voice is softer. "He didn't expect you to _succeed_ , but he expected you to at least _try_. You're letting Bumi down as much as you are the people of the Dragon Flats borough."

I listen for a response from either of my parents, but I don't hear one.

After a couple minutes of silence, I edge away from the house. I stop just far out enough that I can look through the window, into the kitchen, without being seen easily.

_What is…?_

I can't see Dad's face because his back is to the window, but I can see Mom's—and the expression on her face is one I've never seen before… except in the mirror. It's a discomforting combination of confusion, frustration, hurt, and shame, and it perfectly complements the tears streaming down her face.

"I think Bumi should come live with me for a while," Uncle Sokka says suddenly.

"What?" Mom replies, lifting her head off Dad's chest to look at her brother.

"This is Bumi's _home_ , Sokka," Dad says. "He belongs _here_."

"You're right, Aang. This _is_ his home," Uncle Sokka agrees. "Did you forget that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're treating him like a criminal. This island is functioning more like a jail than a home," Uncle Sokka clarifies. "He shouldn't have gone to the Dragon Flats borough after his boxing class, and he should be punished for disobeying you… but this is a toxic environment. He's afraid of his own _mother_ , for crying out loud!" He crosses his arms over his chest and stares sternly at my parents. "You've got to give him _space_ … and while you're at it, take some time to think about things. Let Bumi come stay with me for a while. It'll do you all good."

"I don't know, Sokka. I think I agree with Aang. Bumi should stay here," Mom says.

"Did you two forget that you _asked_ me to come here and give my opinion on all this?"

"No, but I don't—."

"You can resolve all your issues if you just take back your stupid punishment and _do something_ to fix the bigger problem at hand: the inequality between benders and nonbenders. If you won't do _that_ , though… well, then I can't help you unless I take Bumi away from you for a while," Uncle Sokka affirms. "You're fanning a fire here."

"We appreciate everything you've—," Dad starts.

"You want to know why Bumi said you're driving him further and further into the arms of the Equalists, Aang?" Uncle Sokka interrupts.

"Yeah…"

"You've kept him hidden from the inequality that exists outside of the downtown district all his life—and now that he's seen what's _really_ going on, he's angry at you for hiding it from him… but also for not doing anything about it. He's not a bender, and as much as that fact may still shock you…" Uncle Sokka averts his gaze to the ground and shakes his head. "We were talking before about how the world often forgets that he's a part of this family," he continues, his voice softer now. "When he _is_ brought up in an article or something similar, he's identified as 'the Avatar's nonbending son,' not as simply 'the Avatar's son'—and that's gotten to him. He identifies himself first and foremost as a nonbender… because for his entire life his inability to bend has been the most obvious aspect of his identity."

_Yeah… it has._

"Where are you going with this, Sokka?" Dad asks.

"He views your refusal to even _try_ to help the Dragon Flats residents as evidence of your apathy towards him. If you don't care about _those_ nonbenders, why would you care about the nonbender living under your roof?" Uncle Sokka explains. "It's not the most sound logic, I'll admit, but completely sound logic isn't to be expected from a fifteen-year-old boy." He glances between my parents, then continues. "I'm willing to bet my boomerang that that's what's going on. If I'm right, then there's a simple solution to all this: address the elephant in the room. He's angry because your refusal to acknowledge that the Equalists have valid concerns and legitimate points is just a large-scale version of your refusal to admit that, sometimes, you turn a blind eye to him in order to focus on training Kya and Tenzin."

_I'm not imagining it! Uncle Sokka noticed it, too!_

I watch as Mom and Dad look at each other, both wondering whether or not Uncle Sokka is right. I want to stand up and tell them that he _is_ right—that he explained _perfectly_ the feelings I couldn't even make sense of—and that all of this will stop if they just _listen_ to him, but the thought of getting punished for eavesdropping keeps me silently crouched down on the ground.

"You know, Katara… maybe Sokka's right—about everything," Dad murmurs. "I mean, I agree that we're just fanning a fire here. We're all getting on each other's nerves… so perhaps some time apart will do us all some good." He lays a hand on Mom's shoulder. "He has a point. We're not doing as much as we could be to help the people of the Dragon Flats borough. I'd like to meditate on the matter… and I won't be able to meditate if you, me, and Bumi are all yelling at each other."

"I agree," Mom nods. "We've been through _so much_ together, Aang… but somewhere along the way, we lost track of who we are. We've become so wrapped up in family and politics that we've forgotten how important it is to take some time to help all those who fell through the cracks or were stepped on during the building of the United Republic." She sighs and, wiping the tears from her sapphire-colored eyes, turns towards Uncle Sokka. "Okay, big brother. You can take Bumi for a couple days—so long as you promise to talk to him about me. It kills me that he's afraid of me. I love him so much." She wipes some more tears from her eyes, then turns towards Dad. "I want things to go back to the way they were… but for that to happen, Aang, we have to reconnect with who we were—with who we _are_."

"Yes, we do," Dad agrees. He kisses Mom's cheek and nods, then grasps Uncle Sokka's forearm in the traditional Water Tribe handshake and smiles. "We should go find Bumi and tell him that he's going to be staying with his favorite uncle for a while." He glances over his shoulder at Mom. "Can you go pack a suitcase for him, sweetie?" he asks.

"Yeah, of course," Mom answers.

_I've got to get out of here_ , I think as I watch Mom exit the kitchen. _I'm dead if Dad sees me here._

I start in the direction of the dock, then, afraid that Dad will wonder how I knew to head towards the dock to await the next ferry into the city, turn around and sprint towards the bison stable.

_I wonder if Uncle would let me go out to see Da Zan tonight if I asked him_ , I wonder as I toss a head of lettuce into Appa's mouth and wait for Dad and Uncle Sokka to find me. _I've got to get to the park tonight so that Da Zan can take me to wherever he takes other Equalists who want to learn the art of chi blocking… but I don't want to lie to Uncle after everything he's done for me._

"It's a start. I mean, something is better than nothing, right?"

_What are they talking about?_ I wonder as the conversation between Dad and Uncle Sokka drifts into earshot.

"We'd have better luck if we could find healers who live close enough to the Dragon Flats borough that they wouldn't have to move there in order to work in a hospital there," Dad adds. "I'll ask Katara if she's friends with any of the healers who live across the bridge from the neighborhood."

_What?_ I think. _Did Uncle Sokka actually get through to Mom and Dad?_

"It's still a long shot, though, Sokka," Dad continues. "I mean, we don't even know if the other councilmembers will go for it—and if they don't, there's nothing we can do."

_I guess only barely._

He was able to break down the walls around my parents' hearts… but if they're still more hesitant than determined, there's no hope… for the Dragon Flats residents, for the Equalists, for me, or for our family.


	8. Secrets

"Bumi!"

I turn in the direction of Haiyang's voice and greet him with a nod when I locate him.

"Why are you hanging out by the Equalists' table?" he asks.

"I had to do _something_ while I waited for you to get out of detention, didn't I?" I joke. I've become familiar with most of the faces in this crowd in the past couple of weeks, and all I can do while I watch Haiyang observe the scene around us is hope that the Equalists leave me be. "I've been walking all around, stopping at every table. This is the last one."

"Oh… alright, then," Haiyang responds. "Well, what do you want to do now? You want to go to Air Temple Island or stay in the city?"

"I don't care."

"Can we go to the island, then? I haven't been there in forever."

"Sure."

As Haiyang and I start walking in the direction of the docks, I glance over my shoulder at Da Zan. He smiles broadly at me, and I shoot him a small smile in return.

"Getting friendly with the Equalists?" Haiyang jokes.

"No," I answer… half a second too quickly.

I cast my gaze downwards. _Smooth, Bumi_ , I think as Haiyang and I walk out of the park. _Real smooth._

We walk silently for a couple of seconds, until Haiyang changes the subject. "It's been about a week since you returned to Air Temple Island," he says. "Are you still arguing with your parents?"

"We haven't spoken to each other enough to get into an argument," I answer, readjusting the strap to my boomerang sheath. "We don't talk to each other unless we're at the dinner table."

"What? Why?"

"Well, _I've_ got nothing to say to _them_ , and _they're_ too caught up in their own work to talk to me," I explain. "I mean, Dad's barely left City Hall since I returned home, and Mom has been spending more time than usual at the hospital lately. I don't know what they're working on… but I hope they're trying to convince the Council to build a hospital in the Dragon Flats borough. I talked to them about doing so, after all, and so did Uncle Sokka."

"Do you think building a hospital there would placate the Equalists?" Haiyang asks.

"It might… but that's just _one_ of their dozens of complaints." I glance out at the horizon, desperate to come up with another topic of conversation, then gesture towards the docks. "You want to race to the ferry?"

* * * * * * * * * *

"I can't believe we made the four o'clock boat," I muse. We walk out onto the upper deck, and I lean over the railing to let the ocean breeze cleanse my face of the sweat that gathered there during the race.

"Okay, bro, spill it."

I turn to glare at Haiyang. "What are you talking about?" I demand.

"Don't play stupid, Bumi," he growls, crossing his arms over his chest. "You've been unusually quiet ever since Headmaster Ogawa rejected your petition, and you've been avoiding your friends and skulking around for the past month. What's going on? What are you plotting?"

"I can't tell you. It's a secret."

"I can keep a secret."

"This isn't a regular secret, Haiyang," I sigh. "If anyone finds out what I'm doing, I'll get in a _lot_ of trouble."

"What could you possibly be doing that's so bad?" he demands.

"You've heard that the Council representative for the Northern Water Tribe submitted a proposition to criminalize chi blocking, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I've been taking chi blocking lessons—taught _by_ Equalists… _for_ Equalists—for the past month."

"You mean to tell me you're an Equalist?"

"I don't know." I turn to face the water again. "It's… complicated."

_"Uncle Sokka? Can I ask you something?"_

_"Of course, Bumi. What is it?"_

_"What do you think of the Equalists?"_

_"Well, I think the majority of their points are valid. I mean, no honest person can deny that nonbenders are often worse off than benders," Uncle Sokka answered. "The Equalists fight against injustices the nonbending community faces, like insufficient political representation, as well as against laws that disadvantage nonbenders, such as the weapons ban in schools and the criminalization of chi blocking. They fight for a good, noble cause."_

_"Why do I get the feeling that there's a 'but' coming?" I asked._

_"Because you're perceptive," Uncle Sokka answered, smirking. "The Equalists fight for a good, noble cause… but that doesn't mean that all of the Equalists are good, noble people."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I'm going to tell you a secret: benders all over Republic City have been disappearing for the last couple of months," Uncle Sokka said. "It's happening so often that it can accurately be called a crisis, but we're keeping the phenomenon under wraps because we have no answers. We_ think _the Equalists are behind it… but we don't know for sure." He sighed. "The other councilmembers are convinced that the Equalists are to blame, and they're determined to kill the entire movement. I've asked them all—as well as everyone in the Police Department—to avoid drastic actions until we have more information because I want to give the Equalists the benefit of the doubt… and also because drastic actions will only be seen as acts of oppression. I told the other councilmembers that nonbenders would see their arresting Equalists as their censoring the nonbending community, which would just legitimize and strengthen the Equalist movement… so they're on my side for now. I don't know how much longer this harmony will last, though." He looked up at me from where he was sitting on the couch in the living room and worriedly tugged at his goatee. "I'm afraid that, sooner rather than later, the Equalists will forget what they really want—that they'll start seeking revenge instead of equality. I... I fear a civil war."_

"Bumi!"

_Huh?_

I turn towards Haiyang.

"Oh, good. You're back from space."

"What?"

"I said your name, like, four times!"

"Oh. Sorry," I apologize. "I was… thinking."

"About the Equalists?"

"Yeah."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think about them?"

"I don't have an opinion on them."

"How can you not have an opinion on them?" Haiyang demands.

"I can't have an opinion on people I don't know," I answer. "I mean, all of the Equalists I've encountered over the past two months just want to improve things for nonbenders—and so do I. There is _so_ much inequality and injustice in our city, Haiyang. The Dragon Flats borough is _miserable_ , and outside of the downtown district, nonbenders are treated like shit. It's so… _unjust_. The Equalists are working to create a new, more equal world, though—and that's a vision I support wholeheartedly. It's just that… well, some Equalists give me a bad feeling."

"Why?"

"I've encountered a lot of Equalists who believe that the ends justify the means and that we should… well, _destroy_ the world as we know it if that's what it takes to bring about equality—and I just… I don't know about that. I was raised to believe that violence is never the answer. I was taught that there's always a peaceful—or at least a relatively _nondestructive_ —solution… and although I don't really believe that, I don't think the Equalists should be turning violent just yet." I retrieve my boomerang from its sheath and stare at it for a second before throwing it over the deck railing. "I'm Avatar Aang's eldest son, but I'm not a diplomat… and I'm _definitely_ not a monk," I continue. "I'm a fighter, a warrior—and I'll _never_ run from a fight. If the Equalists introduce equality through violence, though, the strife between benders and nonbenders will worsen. We've got to do this the right way—but that requires a rare virtue: patience." I glance up at the sky and see my boomerang coming towards me, so I extend my hand to catch it. "We can't _force_ equality. It's not right. But it's also not right that nonbenders all over the city and the world are treated as second-class citizens." I sigh and slip my boomerang back into its sheath. "I'm just… confused."

"Okay, I have a question."

"What is it?"

"You might think it's a stupid question…"

"What is it?" I repeat, exasperated.

"Are the Equalists teaching nonbenders the art of chi blocking for self-defense purposes, or so that they can disable benders?"

"I have no idea," I answer, shrugging. "I just knew that they were teaching it, and that I had to learn it." I glare at the sight of Air Temple Island, which is slowly but steadily increasing in size as the ferry inches towards it. "My parents had confiscated all my weapons. I was angry and defenseless and _scared_ ," I confess. "Yeah, I can box, but that'll only get me so far in a fight. I _had_ to learn chi blocking so that if I'm ever weaponless again, I'll be able to even the playing field."

_"You're incredible, Bumi," Da Zan smiled. "I've never seen anyone become so proficient so quickly. You're practically a master chi blocker—and you've only been doing this for three weeks!"_

_"I'm a quick learner," I responded, shrugging. "I also started with prior knowledge of the three basic components of chi blocking. I'm quick on my feet thanks to all of Dad's lessons with the spinning gates, and I already knew how to aim and jab because I'm a master knife thrower and because I've been boxing for five years. I was able to skip all the beginner lessons, that's all. And besides, once you know the movements, it's not that hard to coordinate them quickly and accurately."_

"I guess that makes sense," Haiyang says. He shoots me a curious look. "How many people have you chi blocked?" he asks.

"Zero."

"Zero?"

"I've never chi blocked anyone," I tell him. "It's not like we kidnap random benders and practice on them! We've just got hay-filled dummies and wooden poles to practice on… at least at the Tuesday and Wednesday night lessons, which are the ones I attend," I add, remembering Uncle Sokka's revelation about the disappearing benders.

_The Equalists wouldn't kidnap innocent benders… would they?_

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

"Does it hurt?"

"Huh?"

"Does being chi blocked hurt?" Haiyang asks.

"It can, but it doesn't have to. A master chi blocker can control the damage they do to their victim," I answer. "When a master chi blocker chi blocks someone, there are three possible effects: the victim can lose their bending but suffer no other consequences; they can lose their bending and suffer incomplete paralysis of one or more limbs; or they can lose their bending, suffer complete paralysis of one or more limbs, and experience pain in the affected areas."

"Are you a master?"

"I've been told I am, but it's hard to know for sure because I've never actually tried to chi block anyone."

"Why haven't you?"

"I just told you why, Haiyang! We—."

"Yeah, but why haven't you tried to test it out on someone _outside of_ your lessons?"

"It's too risky. My parents are both in favor of criminalizing the technique, so if either of them discover I've been sneaking out to learn it, they'll kill me." I shift my gaze back towards the water. "Uncle Sokka _might_ be willing to be chi blocked, but what's the point of chi blocking another nonbender? If I'm as good as I'm told I am I can paralyze him, but that's not the reason I learned the technique—and besides, I don't want to paralyze anyone unless doing so is absolutely necessary, anyway." I release a breath that sounds a lot like a sigh. "I'd have to find a _bender_ who's willing to be chi blocked."

"Like me?"

I turn to face Haiyang. "What?"

"You can chi block _me_." He raises his arm, causing a stream of water to appear, then flicks his hand in my direction. The water taps me on the arm. "I'm a waterbender."

"You're willing to be chi blocked?" I ask, my skepticism evident in my voice.

"You can do it without paralyzing me, right?"

"I think so."

"Well, that's good. How long will it be until I'll be able to bend again?"

"I was told it lasts about an hour."

"Okay. I can deal with that."

"Are you _sure_ , Haiyang?" I query.

"Sure, I'm sure!" he exclaims. "I mean, what kind of friend—no, what kind of _person_ —would I be if I weren't willing to be a nonbender for an _hour_? You've been a nonbender for _fifteen years_!"

"You've got a point," I laugh. "Okay. When we get to the island, I'll take you to where I go to get away from my parents and the White Lotus sentries. We'll play-fight, and I'll chi block you. If all goes as planned…"

* * * * * * * * * *

"Well?"

Haiyang attempts to summon the water out of the water skin fastened to his side, but fails. "You did it. I can't bend."

"Yes!" I jump up in excitement, but quickly calm down and get serious again. "How do you feel, though? Do you feel numb anywhere? Can you move normally?"

He stretches each of his limbs out, then nods. "I'm alright," he answers.

"What are you doing?"

I whip my head around and see Kya's small figure stepping out from behind a tree trunk, then let out a relieved sigh. "What are you doing here, Kya?" I ask.

"I heard your voice over here and came to see what you're doing," she answers. "What _are_ you doing, anyway? How did you take Haiyang's bending away just by punching him?"

"I didn't punch him. I _chi blocked_ him," I explain, walking over to Kya. I kneel down so that I'm on her level, then lay a hand on her shoulder. "You can't tell _anyone_ about what you just saw, Kya," I add, staring intently at her. " _Especially_ Mom and Dad. Okay? Can you—?"

"Kya! There you are! What are you— oh, hello, Haiyang! I didn't know you were here."

I grimace and, reluctantly, shift my attention from Kya to our mother.

"Master Katara," Haiyang smiles. He bows to Mom in the traditional Water Tribe way, with his left hand curled over his right fist. "How are you?"

"I'm… busy," Mom chuckles. "You know how it is." She turns towards Kya and frowns. "What are you doing over here, Kya? It's been almost half an hour since I asked you to get me some more pins."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Kya apologizes. "I… uh, got sidetracked."

"I can see that," Mom grumbles. She turns towards me and shoots me a curious look. "What are you and Haiyang doing?" she asks.

"Oh, we're just… uh, play-fighting. I…" I glance at Kya, then turn back towards Mom. "It's my fault Kya's here," I add. "Haiyang and I decided to mix things up by pretending to be each other, so he can't waterbend and I can't use my weapons… and I, uh, sort of recruited Kya to waterbend for me."

"Well, that's an… uh, _interesting_ twist," Mom mumbles, "but alright. Come along now, Kya."

"No!"

"No?"

I bite my lip. "Haiyang and I are tied right now," I lie. "Can Kya stay here for five more minutes? I… um… need her magic water."

"I guess that'd be okay—but as soon as your game is over, send Kya inside. I want to get all her measurements before dinner."

"Okay."

After Mom disappears from sight, I turn back towards Kya.

"Thanks, Bumi," she smiles. "You just saved me from getting yelled at."

"You're welcome," I reply. "So… about me chi blocking Haiyang…"

"I won't tell anyone."

"Promise?" I ask, extending my pinky finger.

She wraps hers around mine and grins. "I promise."

I return my hand to my side and breathe a sigh of relief. "Okay. Thanks, Kya."

She nods and scurries off in the direction of the house, and I turn back to Haiyang. He's staring at me, a smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're getting better at lying," he observes.

"I've had to do it a lot lately."

* * * * * * * * * *

"I love Air Temple Island," Haiyang muses. "You can smell Yue Bay no matter where on the island you are. It's great."

"It is," I agree, smiling as the early-springtime breeze whips at our clothes and the smells of fish and salt water invade our nostrils. "I love it. I'm so excited for next year. I can't wait to join the Navy."

"You really think your parents will let you join?"

"I don't know." I pluck a few strands of grass out of the ground, then let the breeze carry them away. "I'm optimistic, but far from certain."

"Do you think your uncle could convince them to let you join?"

"Uncle Sokka?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know," I repeat. "He was even more devastated than Mom was when their father left to fight in the war, so I don't even know if he'd be willing to try."

"Well, how did you manage to sneak out of his house to learn chi blocking?" Haiyang asks. "You could just sneak out of your parents' house the same way and… y'know, _enlist_."

"I wish I could, but I couldn't. It doesn't work like that," I respond. "The United Forces doesn't let anyone under the age of eighteen enlist without their parents' written consent." I sigh, then, remembering Haiyang's question, smirk. "It wasn't hard to convince Uncle Sokka to let me go out, though, because he didn't care what my excuse for needing to go out was. He wanted me to leave so that he could—." I shoot Haiyang a serious look. "You've got to promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you," I say. "If anyone learns I've been sneaking out to learn how to chi block people, my parents will kill me… but if _this_ gets around, I'll be _doubly_ dead. I'm not even sure if my own _parents_ know about this…"

"What is it?" Haiyang demands. "Tell me!"

"Uncle Sokka let me leave whenever I asked because he invited Aunt Toph over while I was gone," I reveal, smirking.

The curiosity and excitement on Haiyang's face disappear. "So?" he responds. "What's the big deal? They're friends."

"Well, if you _must_ know… one night, the chi blocking lesson ended early. I got back to Uncle Sokka's house about half an hour before I usually did, and when I opened the door, I saw him sitting on the couch in the living room, shirtless. Aunt Toph was on top of him, and she was dressed only in a tank top." My smirk widens. "They were groping each other and making out."

"You mean… to tell me that… Councilman Sokka… and _Chief Beifong_ … are a _thing_?!"

"Shh!" I order. "I don't know. She had a crush on him when they were kids, and they've been best friends all these years, but that's all I know for sure… although _something_ romantic is going on between them now. You can't tell _anyone_ , though!" I add. "Aunt Toph will _bury_ me if this gets out!"

"The Chairman of the United Republic Council and the Chief of Police…" Haiyang murmurs, mouth agape. "That's a power couple to rival your parents!"

"Can you shut up, man?" I growl. "This is confidential information!"

"Why?" he asks, laughing. "You can just chi block Chief Beifong if she tries to kill you!"

"She'd kill me before I could get close enough to her to do that," I contend. I jump to my feet and grab Haiyang's wrist, then add, "now shut up and come with me."

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"I just got an idea."

"Are we going to end up in jail if we act on it?"

"I doubt it. We'll have a bunch of Acolytes annoyed with us, though," I laugh. "I just need to find my flute, gather enough seaweed to fill four buckets, and convince Momo or one of the other lemurs to help us out…"


	9. The Showdown: Part I

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm getting food."

"Well, get some and _get out_!"

"You shouldn't be angry."

" _You_ shouldn't be such a _snitch_ ," I retort, glancing up from the equations I've been working on for the past half hour to glare at Tenzin.

" _You_ shouldn't be such a _troublemaker_!" he replies. "You shouldn't be drinking alcohol, either, Bumi. It's bad for you. And you're not even old enough to drink!"

"I'll be old enough in a couple of months," I growl. "It's none of your business _what_ I drink, though, Tenzin… be it water, alcohol, cactus juice…" I glare at him with all the ferocity I can muster, "or the _blood_ of _annoying_ little boys!"

The horrified look on Tenzin's pale face is priceless, and if I were in a better mood I'd laugh at it—but I'm in a _foul_ mood, so I just shake my head and return my attention to my math homework.

"Can you go eat your stupid apple somewhere else?" I grumble. "You're distracting me."

"How so?" he asks.

"You're chewing very loudly," I answer flatly.

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Well, even if I am—which I'm _not_ —that's not very distracting," Tenzin retorts. " _This_ is distracting!" he adds, sending a small, controlled gust of wind towards my papers.

I grab them to keep them from going flying, then glare at Tenzin again. "You better not do that again, or else—."

"Or else _what_?" he challenges. He sends a more powerful gust of wind towards me, which causes my papers to fly off the table and waft down to the floor. "What are you going to do about it, Bumi?"

_Avoid letting small frustrations and inconveniences affect your inner peace._

The words of my ever-wise father repeat themselves in my mind and encourage me to reign in my temper. "Can you just leave me alone, T.?" I ask, bending down to retrieve the papers that he blew off the table. "I've got to finish this assignment."

He answers me by blowing my homework right out of my hands.

" _Spirits_ , Tenzin, _stop it_!"

I start to reach under my tunic for two knives I can use to pin his arms to the chair he's sitting on so he can't airbend, but the mere _thought_ of someone even _touching_ his precious little airbender will send Dad into the Avatar State—and because I'd rather not be the victim of his wrath, I refrain.

"What is all the arguing about? I heard you from _outside_!" Mom demands, walking into the room, Dad close behind. He's got a weary look on his face, evidence of another long day at City Hall.

"Well, I _was_ doing my math homework, but then Tenzin came in and started _airbending_ all my papers off the table!" I explain indignantly.

Mom glances around the room, and when she returns her gaze to me, her expression tells me that she believes me. "Did you blow all these papers onto the floor, Tenzin?" she asks.

"Yes…" Tenzin answers meekly.

"What did you do to antagonize your brother, Bumi?" Dad inquires.

"What? You're blaming _me_ for this mess?!" I screech. "I didn't do _anything_! I just asked Tenzin if he would give me the room so I could do my homework in peace!"

"I'm not _blaming_ you, Bumi," Dad responds, his voice calm, cool, and collected. "It's just that… well, between the two of you, _you're_ far more likely to start trouble than _Tenzin_."

"I guess you're right," I grouse. "I mean, after all, your perfect, _precious_ little _airbender_ can do no wrong."

"Tenzin's being an airbender has _nothing_ to do with this, Bumi," Dad growls.

"Yes, it does!" I argue. "You _always_ take _his_ side when we argue because _he's_ the son that lives up to your hopes and dreams, not _me_! I wasn't the type of son you wanted, and there's nothing I can do to redeem myself in your eyes. I'm just the son who's more trouble than he's worth!"

"You're not more trouble than you're worth, Bumi," Dad contends. "I love you and Kya as much as I love your brother because, airbenders or not, my children are _my children_." He closes his eyes, massages his temples, and sighs. When he opens his eyes again, he adds, "you're just mad at Tenzin because he told your mother and me you snuck alcohol from Hengjian's party into your room."

"You really think I'm _that_ petty?"

"Well, I—."

"Stop arguing with him, Aang," Mom orders. She crosses her arms over her chest and shoots Dad a pointed look. "I don't think Bumi would just _throw_ his homework all over the floor and blame his brother, even if he _is_ angry at Tenzin for tattling on him."

"I agree, but—."

"Go to your room, Tenzin," Mom commands, cutting Dad off mid-sentence and turning to face Tenzin. "You shouldn't airbend at your brother. It's inconsiderate."

"Okay, Mother."

I watch Tenzin leave, then turn back to my parents. "I didn't do anything to start this," I insist.

"You know, Bumi, sometimes our negative energy can affect others. It's possible that Tenzin picked up on your anger and—."

"You're never going to change, are you?" I interrupt. "You're always going to blame _me_ for _everything_ , aren't you?"

"I'm not—."

"It's alright, Dad. I can accept it," I snap, turning around and storming out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Mom demands. "You're not allowed off the island except to go to school and your boxing classes, remember? We had a whole discussion about this earlier when we punished you for hiding alcohol in—."

"Well, Mom, if Dad's going to lecture me even when I'm innocent, I figure I might as well do something to actually _deserve_ a lecture," I answer, slamming the front door on my way out of the house.

* * * * * * * * * *

"What's the easiest way to lose an airbender? Get on the ground!" I chuckle as I step out of the train station in the Dragon Flats borough.

_It's also the easiest way to ensure that I won't get blown out of the sky_ , I add silently.

I was taught how to use a glider when I was ten, and in the years since gliding has proven a quick, reliable alternative to the ferry—so long as there's decent wind, which there usually is… near Yue Bay, at least. The high-rise buildings so characteristic of Republic City block the majority of the air currents, and because I'm not an airbender, I can't control what wind manages to slip between the buildings. I'd had to retreat to the ground as soon as I reached the downtown district—but I quickly realized that the easiest way to lose Dad, who had grabbed his staff as soon as I ran out of the house so that he could chase after me, was to hide amongst the shadows sheathing the streets.

I'd hopped on the first train that approached the station, and because I was carrying what resembles [when closed] an airbender's staff, a couple of ill-informed people approached me and asked me if I was "Avatar Aang's airbending child." When I told them that I wasn't—that I was Avatar Aang's firstborn son, the nonbender—they asked me why I had a glider. I explained the mechanics of it to them, but all I got in response was some pitying looks—and those pitying looks spurred my decision to transfer to a train that was going to the Dragon Flats borough.

_I won't get pitying looks for being a nonbender_ here, I think, smiling as I take a look around the dark but semi-familiar neighborhood. _I'll just get empathy—something I rarely get from Dad._

I expel that thought from my mind, then start walking towards the building that's most familiar to me: a two-story building on the outskirts of the borough, the building in which Da Zan has been teaching me the art of chi blocking.

When I reach it a couple minutes later, the first thing I notice is the mean-looking man standing outside the front door.

"Hey!" he says. "You're one of the Avatar's kids!"

"Yeah, I am. What of it?"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "You're not welcome here," he growls.

"What are you talking about?" I reply. "I come here twice a week."

"Oh?"

"Yeah!"

"Can you prove it?"

"Are you asking me to chi block you?" I growl.

He neither answers nor budges.

I glower at the bouncer for a second, then soften my expression. "I don't want to fight," I tell him. "I'm a _friend_ , not a foe. You can ask Da Zan if you don't believe me. He'll vouch for me."

He glares at me for another second, then opens the door, sticks his head inside, and calls out for Da Zan.

"What's going on, Gun?" Da Zan asks. "Do we—oh, Gun, Bumi is an ally! You can let him in."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Da Zan affirms. He turns towards me and shoots me a confused—but still amiable—look. "What are you doing here on a Monday, Bumi?" he asks.

"I got mad when Dad said that Tenzin's acting out and tormenting me was _my_ fault and… well, I came to the city and… uh… ended up over here?" I shoot Da Zan a sheepish look. "I can go home if I'm disrupting something…" I add.

"You're not disrupting anything, Bumi," Da Zan assures me. "Come on in!" He gestures for me to follow him and smiles at me as I step into the giant room that's devoid of furniture. "I'm _glad_ you're here, actually. I've been meaning to invite you to one of our Monday night lessons. You're more than ready to participate in a sparring match."

"Sparring match?" I repeat as I scan the room. It's far more crowded than I've ever seen it, and the sheer number of people here is a little overwhelming.

"Yes. You'll see what I'm talking about soon enough," Da Zan adds, seeing my confused expression. He gestures towards the stage on the far side of the room. "You can get on stage," he says. "I'll be back in a minute. When I return, your sparring match will begin."

"Okay…" I say.

I watch Da Zan disappear into the crowd, then walk over to the stage. I climb onto it, and Da Zan joins me within a minute. "I hope you remember your chi blocking lessons, Bumi," he says, a mischievous glint in his chocolate-colored eyes. "These two were difficult to capture."

_Capture?_

I don't have time to ask Da Zan what he means because as soon as I open my mouth, two burly men join us on stage. The one on the left is shoving forward a handcuffed teenager wearing a sweatshirt with the United Forces Preparatory School's logo on it, and the one on the right has his hands on the shoulders of a slightly older—and also handcuffed—man who's wearing the uniform of someone who works in the Fire Nation Cultural Center.

"What's going on, Da Zan?" I ask.

"We capture benders so that we can practice our technique on them," he answers. "I bring them here on Monday nights so that my students can spar with them."

"You're… capturing innocent benders and… forcing them to spar with your students?"

"There's no such thing as an innocent bender, Bumi," Da Zan responds. "They're _all_ guilty of oppressing nonbenders."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!" I exclaim. "If these people didn't do anything, let them _go_ , Da Zan! You shouldn't be forcing them to fight us—or asking _us_ to fight _them_! Chi blocking is supposed to be used for self-defense purposes only!"

"Why? _Bending_ isn't used for self-defense purposes only!" he retorts.

"It's not, no, but—."

"Chou and Taro, release the firebenders!"

Da Zan's two burly cronies unlock the firebenders' handcuffs, and as soon as they're free of their restraints, they start attacking us.

"You see, Bumi?" Da Zan smirks. "Go! Attack them!"

"No!" I shout, ducking a charged attack from the elder firebender. "They're innocent!"

"They're attacking us!"

"Did you expect them _not_ to attack us?" I ask, incredulous, as I jump over a ring of fire and look for Chou and Taro. I don't see them anywhere. "You _kidnapped_ them!"

I step in between Da Zan and the firebenders and raise my hands in surrender. "You're both free to go," I tell them. "I apologize for what you've been through, but it's in the past now. You're free to leave, so please, stop attacking us and—."

"Shut up!"

I dodge the older man's attack quickly enough that it doesn't sear my face, but the flames still singe the shoulder of my tunic. I glance at it, then return my attention to the middle-aged firebender. "Stop attacking me! I don't want to fight—."

"Quit talking and _chi block_ them, Bumi!" Da Zan interrupts. He jumps off the stage and disappears amongst the people at the front of the crowd, then adds, "this is your chance!"

The firebenders take a step forward, so I take a step back. "I won't chi block innocent people," I assert. I assume an acquiescent position, my hands again raised in surrender, and stare pleadingly at the former captives who are now my attackers. "I don't want to fight," I repeat. "You were the victims of an unprovoked attack, and you have every right to be angry—but _please_ , just _go_. Get out of here." I glance past the two men, at the far side of the stage, and see Chou and Taro standing guard in front of the door. _It'll be hard to get past them… but the only other exit is on the opposite side of the room, past the crowd._ "You can beat the guards," I add, "and go out the same way you came in. We don't have to stand here, fighting each other."

"Oh, shut up!" the UFPS student growls, aiming a fire jab at me. I dodge it easily… but I don't have as much luck evading the barrage of others.

" _Why are you fighting me?!_ " I demand, dodging another charged attack from the elder firebender. "I'm not your enemy!"

"You're a _filthy Equalist_ , just like the rest of these people—which means you _are_ our enemy!" the younger firebender responds.

"They're attacking the movement, Bumi!" Da Zan exclaims. "What are you waiting for? Attack them!"

I look down and, when I locate him among the crowd, glare at him. "What is _wrong_ with you?" I growl. "You can't fight inequality and injustice by attacking and kidnapping people! You can't expect benders to support the Equalist movement if _this_ side of it is the only one they— _agh_!

"Can you _please_ stop attacking me?!" I screech, scrambling to my feet and scowling when I notice that the area just below my knee, near the top of my black boots, is bare. The two firebenders' simultaneous attack must have incinerated the edges of my knee breeches.

"Where is your _loyalty_ , Bumi?" Da Zan demands. "Why aren't you chi blocking them? Why are you turning your back on your own kind?"

"I don't _have_ a kind!" I roar, keeping one eye on the firebenders so I won't be victimized by another surprise attack as I talk to Da Zan. "I'm only loyal to people who have proven they're loyal to _me_ , and the only people I _fight_ are people who are oppressing others—and right now, Da Zan, _you're_ the one oppressing people!"

"My son is right. You _are_ the one oppressing people right now."

_My son?_

I scan the crowd and locate the Avatar at the back of it. "Dad!" I exclaim—more out of surprise than anything else. I'd forgotten he'd been chasing me.

He walks across the room, then airbends himself onto the stage and situates himself in between the firebenders and me. "I apologize for the suffering you have endured at the hands of this man," Dad says, gesturing towards Da Zan before returning his gaze to the two firebenders. "And I beg you to leave my son, and the rest of these people, alone," he adds. "Your kidnappers will face justice. I promise."

"We're so sorry, Avatar Aang. We didn't know this kid was your—."

"It's alright, sir," Dad assures the elder firebender. "I have no hard feelings. I just ask that you forgive these people and leave, so I can resolve things here and help everyone move past this ugly night."

"Yes… yes, sir!" the middle-aged man stammers. He bows to Dad, then grabs the younger firebender by his elbow and drags him towards the far end of the stage—and Chou and Taro are so shocked by my father's presence they let their former captives leave without so much as a dirty glance.

I turn towards Dad. "How did you—?"

"I found out which train you got on and followed the railroad," Dad answers. "I'm not a master tracker like your uncle, but I can still find my own _son_."

"Oh… alright," I murmur, bending down and grabbing my glider, which I dropped when the two firebenders knocked me down.

"Oh, this is pathetic!" Da Zan grumbles. He climbs onto the stage again and glares at me. "You're a disgrace, Bumi! You should've—."

"How _dare_ you speak to my _son_ like that!" Dad interrupts.

"I can speak to Bumi however I please—and since I _own_ this building, I can tell _you_ to _get out_!" Da Zan growls. "You're not welcome here, Avatar Aang. You're supposed to represent _everyone_ , but you're leading the oppression against nonbenders!"

"Come on, Da Zan, don't you think you're being a little—?" I start.

"I was mistaken when I said you were a hero, Bumi," Da Zan interrupts, turning his attention towards me. "You're not a hero if you side with our oppressors when it's convenient for you to do so." He shoots me a dark look. "You're ignored by your father, oppressed by your mother, and tormented by your siblings, and _still_ you side with them over your own kind!"

"I'm not—." I stop mid-sentence so that I can quiet the voice in my head that's telling me that despite the terrible things Da Zan has done, he's got a point. I mean, Dad _does_ ignore me unless he's chasing after me or scolding me… and Mom _did_ leave me weaponless… and Kya and Tenzin _do_ steal the spotlight from me and use their bending abilities to tease me…

_They're my family, though_ , I remind myself. _They're the ones who will be there for me in the end—so I have to be there for them_ now _._

"I side with whoever's _right_ , Da Zan. It doesn't matter whether they're a bender or not."

_… even if being there for them means turning my back on a cause I support?_

"Okay—but just remember, you brought this on yourself!" He turns towards the crowd, then points towards Dad and me. "Equalists, _attack_ the Avatar and his son!" he demands.

"What?!"

We don't even have time to react before we're surrounded by a swarm of angry people.

"Stay close to me, Bumi!" Dad commands. He waves his arms around in a circular motion, creating a small air bubble that keeps the Equalists at bay; then, seeing that the door on the opposite side of the stage is blocked by at least a couple dozen people, he gestures for me to follow him. We jump off the stage and start walking towards the far exit… but we don't get very far before the Equalists start penetrating our bubble.

"We have to chi block the Avatar!"

"And quickly! If he goes into the Avatar State, he'll kill us all!"

I shove an Equalist attempting to sneak up on Dad to the ground, then, seeing others approaching, retrieve some knives from the sheath under my tunic and start pinning people to the floor, to the wall, and even to each other. I take out over half a dozen Equalists in just a couple of seconds… but there are several dozens more. They're _everywhere_.

_I wish I had my sword_ , I think as I grab my staff and start hitting people with it.

I get hit in the upper back, but not at a pressure point. _It's best not to give them a second chance_ , I decide, swiveling and hitting the wannabe chi blocker upside the head with my glider.

I whack a couple more people with it, then edge it into Dad's air bubble and hand it over to him. "Okay, keep them at a distance and hold this for me," I say. "I'm going to try to chi block some of these people."

"You know how to—?"

I don't wait for Dad to finish asking the question I don't want to answer before I get to work attacking the pressure points of the people around me (while simultaneously dodging _their_ attacks). The Equalists around me drop like flies, but stepping over them as they writhe in pain so that I can paralyze the next group of approaching chi blockers actually _hurts_ my heart rather than fills it with pride. But I can't think about that now.

I shove a couple Equalists aside and chi block the woman approaching Dad's backside, then scan the area. Dad and I have made a dent in the crowd, but we're still surrounded.

"We can't fight them all," I concede, grabbing another Equalist by his neck and choking him for about a minute before flinging him against the wall.

"We have to get out of here," Dad agrees, "but how? The doors are blocked. We'll never get out through either of them."

I shift my gaze to the ceiling and begin looking for a trapdoor. It's common for people in the Dragon Flats borough to live and work in the same building, and to stop their customers from wandering into their living quarters, many proprietors got rid of the staircases in their multi-story buildings and installed trapdoors instead. _This_ building, if it follows the same design as other multi-story buildings in the borough, should have stairs that drop down from a hatch on the floor of the second story, too.

I scan the ceiling, looking for the hatch. When I find it, it's a _Eureka!_ moment. "We have to get up to the ceiling!" I exclaim, tugging impatiently on Dad's robes.

He looks at me like I've lost my mind, but creates another, bigger air bubble and uses his airbending to propel us upwards. When we're a couple feet above the crowd, he asks, "why are we—?"

"Because of _that_ ," I answer, pointing towards the hatch. "You see it? The hatch?"

"No, I— wait, _yes_! You're a _genius_ , Bumi!" Dad grins. He wraps his arm tighter around me, then sends a gust of wind towards the hatch—a large, powerful gust that snaps the hinges and causes it to plummet to the floor below. I grin as the Equalists below us disperse, each one desperate to get out of the way of the falling staircase.

The sight I see when I shift my gaze upwards wipes the grin off my face, though. Chou and Taro, as well as a dozen other Equalists, are hovering near what is now just a rectangular hole, waiting for us. In addition, three other Equalists are swinging towards us, each clinging to banners they've tied to the ceiling joists.

"Oh, no…" I murmur.

"Ah, Bumi, we can take 'em!" Dad says confidently. "There aren't many up there."

"Yeah… but we've got another problem," I respond.

He glances over his shoulder to see what I'm talking about, and I watch as the expression on his face changes to one of worry. He can't fly indoors because there are no air currents that he can control with his glider, so if one of the approaching men crashes into us, we'll plummet to the floor… and, unless Dad goes into the Avatar State and annihilates this building, get captured.

"What are we going to do about them?" Dad wonders aloud after one of the Equalists easily dodges his air blast.

"I'll take care of them," I answer. " _You_ should just get out of here. The Equalists aren't going to stop until they chi block you, so just _go_. You can fly out one of the windows up there."

"What about—?"

"Go get Aunt Toph and _bring these assholes to justice_!" I order, grabbing my glider and letting go of Dad's robes.

I jump towards the closest Equalist and throw a kunai knife at the banner from which the next-closest one is swinging. It severs the thin fabric's connection to the joist, and the Equalist starts falling to the ground.

"Bumi!" Dad cries. "You're going to fall!"

"I'm fine!" I growl, grabbing onto the leg of the Equalist I'd jumped towards. I dodge his kick, then scurry up the banner like I would the rope in gym class until I'm high enough to climb onto the ceiling joist and undo the knot attaching the banner to it.

I don't watch as he, too, plummets to the floor. I just run along the joist, then jump onto the end of the adjacent one and start untying the knot attaching the third Equalist's banner to the rafter. He starts to fall, but before gravity gets the better of him he grabs the ripped banner, ties it into a noose, and aims it at me. I dodge it, but in dodging it I step off the two-inch thin joist.

I open my mouth to yell for help, but before I can, I close it again. If I scream, Dad will sacrifice his chance at escaping to come rescue me—and I can't let him do that.

The _thud_ I make when I fall onto a pile of people causes Dad to turn around and glance down at me just after he sends a charged fire jab at the Equalists waiting for him on the second story, though. "Bumi!" he calls. "Are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_!" I repeat, ignoring the pain searing through my body and scrambling to my feet before the uninjured Equalists can jump me. "I've got everything under control! Just go get Aunt Toph!"

* * * * * * * * * *

"Let me go!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"We can't have you interfering."

"In what?"

"Family affairs."

_Family?_

"What do you want with my family?" I demand, wrestling against my restraints.

"We want to equalize them," Gun answers, smirking.

I start to respond, then decide against it. I won't get anywhere by arguing with Gun.

_I_ could _get somewhere if I examine the situation, though…_

I'm in a small, square room, hanging upside down in a curled-up position, my ankles and hands bound behind my back by a rope that's tied to one of the wooden ceiling joists. This is an uncomfortable position, and I'm starting to get dizzy from all the blood rushing to my head… but I'm able to reach the knives I keep stored in my boots, so it's also a very _convenient_ position.

I grab the string-wrapped handle of the kunai knife I keep hidden in my boot and, before Gun can notice that I'm holding something, cut the rope binding my ankles and hands together. I also sever the rope's connection to the ceiling joist, which causes me to fall to the floor. Gun lunges at me, but I backflip out of his reach.

"Hey!"

_He's a big guy, so he's probably not very quick on his feet_ , I think, dashing behind him. I jab his pressure points, which causes his arms and legs to go limp and him to have to struggle to remain standing upright.

"I'll see you around, buddy," I grin, grabbing my glider and giving Gun a mocking salute before opening the door. I don't see anyone when I peek out, so I walk over to the first window I see and start easing myself out of the building. I order myself to relax as I release my grip on the windowsill, then bend my knees slightly just before I land. I roll onto my side as soon as I hit the concrete sidewalk, and the contact wreaks havoc on my shoulder and draws some blood from my bare arms… but other than that, I'm fine.

I don't wait for my luck to run out, though. I just start sprinting towards the train station, all too cognizant of the fact that I won't be able to use my glider again until I reach the docks.

* * * * * * * * * *

The early-springtime air has never felt so good, nor smelled so much like freedom, but the fear that I'll get to Air Temple Island too late to save my family from whatever hell Da Zan and the other Equalists want to put them through keeps me from enjoying the chill of the night air.

_I have to try, though_ , I decide, opening my glider and taking off.

I immediately fall into the bay.

"What the heck?" I wonder. I swim back to the dock, then hold one of my now-wet fingers up. _There's no wind_ , I realize.

_I wish I were an airbender… or a waterbender…_ I think, staring out at the vast expanse of Yue Bay.

"What? No! What am I talking about? I don't wish I were a bender!"

_There's got to be another way to get to the island_ , I think, shaking my head and expelling the other thought from my mind. I don't have time to be arguing with or lying to myself. My family is in danger!

"Wait…"

_If my family is in danger, that means the Equalists are getting there somehow—and since the Equalists can't fly or waterbend themselves across Yue Bay and the ferry doesn't run this late at night, they've got to be getting there by boat!_

I walk along the docks until I find a series of wooden skiffs powered by outboard motors. I start walking towards the nearest one, then stop.

_Hmm…_

I walk over to the second of the four skiffs, then rip the motor off of it. I drop it onto the ground, then toss the pieces into the bay. I do the same for two of the other skiffs, then climb into the one I left undamaged and start for Air Temple Island.

_I hope I'm not too late…_


	10. The Showdown: Part II

When I get to Air Temple Island, the first thing I notice is that it's quiet— _too_ quiet, considering there are Equalists here.

"Where are the White Lotus sentries?" I wonder. I tie the small boat I stole to the dock, alongside three other skiffs, then jump off it and race up the path leading from the shore to the plaza.

It doesn't take me long to spot Han-Yi, a firebending sentry with whom I get along well because he remembers what it's like to be young, unlike the other stick-in-the-mud sentries, who just tattle on me whenever I come home past curfew or something. "Are you okay?" I ask. "What happened?"

"We were attacked by Equalists," Han-Yi informs me. "It… was a… a sneak attack." He grimaces and tightens his grip on his shoulder. "We fought them, but… before we… knew it, we could barely move, much less _bend_."

I glance past Han-Yi and see the silhouettes of a couple other people sprawled out on the ground, each figure exhibiting a different degree of consciousness. "Did they get all twelve of you?" I ask.

"I… don't know… but they got… at least nine of us," Han-Yi responds, again wincing in pain. "Jin-Hua ran to the girls' dormitory to get Kya, and Qiu went to the boys' dormitory to get Tenzin. I… don't know if they were chi blocked, too." He bites his lip, then continues. "The Equalists… destroyed our telegraph when they… ambushed us, so Gao… went to the city to find your father and Chief Beifong and… ask them to come here."

"Okay. I'm going inside to see what's up," I announce, turning to walk towards the main house.

"No!" Han-Yi cries. "It's too dangerous in there, Bumi. You'll get hurt."

" _My family_ might _already_ be hurt!" I growl, turning back around to glare at Han-Yi.

"I know. I just—."

"It's not like the Equalists can take my bending away, Han-Yi," I add, softening my expression. "I'll be alright."

He opens his mouth to respond, but instead of waiting to hear what he has to say, I sprint towards the house. When I reach it, the first thing I hear is Kya crying.

_If they touched Kya…_ I think, anger bubbling within me as I race towards the noise.

I follow the sound of Kya's sobs into the living room, and the scene that I come face-to-face with infuriates me. Jin-Hua and Qiu are sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, and Mom, Kya, and Tenzin are huddled against the wall nearest the kitchen. They're all in pajamas, and Kya and Tenzin are both crying—Kya loudly, Tenzin quietly.

"Bumi," Mom breathes.

"What are you waiting for, you imbeciles?! Get 'im!"

I turn in the direction of Da Zan's voice, but before I can catch sight of him, another Equalist lunges at me. I sidestep him easily, then, twisting his arms behind his back, send him crashing into a table on the other side of the room. He whistles just before he falls unconscious, and all of a sudden, another man is right behind me, attempting to chi block me. I dodge his jabs, then attack his pressure points. He drops to his knees, unable to stand, much less fight.

I turn towards Mom. "I'm guessing they got you, too?" I say.

"Yes," she sighs.

"What about them?" I ask, gesturing to Kya and Tenzin.

"They said as long as they behave themselves and don't bend, they won't touch them."

I kneel down in front of Kya, then pull her into a hug. "I won't let them hurt you," I say. "I promise."

She responds with a small but genuine smile.

I wipe the tears off her face, then turn towards Tenzin. "I won't let them hurt you, either, cue ball," I add.

"Thank you," he sniffs. He wipes the tears off his own face, then adds, "I'm… I'm sorry I airbent at you before, Bumi."

"It's okay."

"You're so… _magnanimous_ , Bumi. Who would've thought that someone would _want_ to protect their oppressors?"

I turn around to see Da Zan. He's surrounded by a woman and two men, one of whom bears a striking resemblance to Gun.

"What do you want, Da Zan?" I demand. "Why do you want to hurt my family?"

"I don't want to hurt your _entire_ family," Da Zan smirks. "I don't give a spider-rat's ass about your siblings, for instance. I just care about your _parents_."

" _Why_ , though? Why do you want to hurt my parents?"

"Well, if the Equalists can bring down the Avatar and the world's greatest waterbender, the world will see that we mean business and will have no choice but to acknowledge that we pose a serious threat to the bending establishment," he explains.

"You shouldn't _want_ to be considered a 'serious threat,'" I respond. "You can't go around kidnapping and _hurting_ people if you want the Equalist movement to gain momentum." I cross my arms over my chest and glower at him. "You're not an Equalist, though. You don't care about giving the nonbending community a voice. You just care about taking the _benders'_ voice _away_. You don't want equality, Da Zan. You want _revenge_."

"I'll have to ask Avatar Aang how he managed to brainwash you," Da Zan laughs.

"Oh, shut up," I growl. " _You_ brainwashed me! You convinced me that you just wanted to improve things for nonbenders, but you _lied_ , Da Zan! You're a _liar_ , and your despicable actions are causing the Police Department to view every nonbender in the city as a criminal!" I glance down at a still-whimpering Kya, then return my attention to Da Zan. "Can you just… go away?" I ask. "We don't have to do this, Da Zan. We don't have to fight."

"Yes, we do," he replies. "You have to pay for turning your back on the Equalists!" He snaps his fingers, and his three cronies lunge at me.

I easily dodge the woman's punch, then grab her in a headlock, fling her towards Da Zan, and shift my attention towards the Equalist who resembles Gun. _He relies on raw strength more than agility_ , I observe as I weave in between his attacks, _so… let's dance, buddy!_

I dance around him—partly to keep him from being able to hit me and partly to use him as a shield against the other man's attacks—for a couple of minutes, then roughly jab two of his pressure points, which causes his arms to fall limply to his sides. I don't have time to revel in the small victory, though, because the woman—who, upon closer inspection, I recognize as Hikari, a woman I'd met at Da Zan's table in the speaker's corner of the park one afternoon a couple weeks ago—sprints towards me again just as the other man tries to hook me in the cheek.

I jump up to avoid the man's hook and, lifting my leg in a spinning kick, slam my foot into Hikari's face; and as I bring my leg down, I swing it against the back of Gun's doppelgänger's knees.

_Yes! The bigger they are, the harder they fall_ , I silently cheer as Gun's doppelgänger's legs give out and he collapses. I jab the pressure points near his legs and grin as he lets out a surprised—and pained—gasp, but don't spare him a second glance before I leap onto the couch to avoid the other man and Hikari, who's just getting to her feet again.

_Okay, it's time to settle this once and for all_ , I think, reaching under my tunic and pulling out a knife.

"You're playing with toys now, eh?" the male Equalist sneers.

"You want to see just how painful my toys can be?" I retort.

He lunges at me, fists raised. I jump off the couch, somersaulting as I approach the floor; and as I roll, I aim the knife so that… _yes!_ He gets pinned to the wall behind the couch by his left earlobe, and I laugh as he shrieks; then, before he can yank the blade out of his skin, I pin both of his arms to the wall. He wriggles in an attempt to get free, then accepts that the knives are lodged too deeply into the wall and settles down.

"You should invest in some earrings," I suggest, smirking at him before turning around and grabbing Hikari's wrist just before she can jab one of my pressure points.

"You're a good fighter, Hikari, but not good enough to sneak up on me," I laugh, shoving her backwards with considerable force.

She somersaults in mid-air and lands gracefully on her feet.

"You're agile," I comment.

"Yes, I am," she agrees, her voice impassive. "You're a good fighter, too," she adds.

"Do you think I'm better than you?" I ask.

She snorts derisively. "You can't handle me, kid," she answers.

"You wanna bet?"

She narrows her eyes and raises her fists to chest level, but she doesn't move to attack.

"You don't have to be so wary," I tell her. "I'm not going to attack you unless you attack _me_ first. I'm still in favor of resolving this peacefully."

She glances at Da Zan out of the corner of her eye, then returns her attention to me. She brings her fingers towards my shoulder blade, but I move just enough to thwart her attempt to hit the pressure point there—but only _just_ enough.

_I can't let her get away with that!_

It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually I overpower Hikari, too.

"You still think I can't handle myself?" I ask, smirking as I look at all the Equalists I've singlehandedly taken down.

"Who are you asking, Bumi? Me? Hikari? Or _your mother_?" Da Zan queries.

_The Dragon Flats borough is controlled almost entirely by the Agni Kai Triad, and you have no means of protecting yourself from them._

I shift my gaze to Mom. She's got one hand buried in Kya's hair and another resting on Tenzin's shoulder, but her attention isn't on them; it's on me. She's staring at me, her expression desperate, _scared_.

"You don't have to be afraid, Mom," I say. "I'll protect you."

"You shouldn't have to," she whispers. A sad smile tugs the corners of her lips upwards, and the tears that were welling in her eyes when I first walked into the living room start to fall. "You shouldn't have to."

"Why? Do you think that, just because he can't bend, he can't—and therefore shouldn't try—to protect you?" Da Zan demands.

"This has _nothing_ to do with his not being able to bend!" Mom yells, her face contorting in anger. "This is about my son being _my son_ ," she adds, glaring at Da Zan, her sapphire eyes ablaze with all the ferocity of Azula's fire. "He _can_ protect us. He just _shouldn't have to_! _I_ ought to be protecting _him_! I am his _mother_ , for Agni's sake!"

_Does she really think I can protect them?_ I wonder.

"I'm his _mother_ … and I've failed him," she continues, her tears falling harder now. She turns her head to look at me, and the guilt-ridden expression on her face tugs at my heart. "I'm so sorry, Bumi," she says. "I'm so, so sorry for everything I've said and everything I've done that's hurt you—that's made you feel like you aren't capable or strong or worthy of being my son." She wipes the tears from her face, then continues. "I've ignored _you_ just like I've ignored the complaints of those living in the Dragon Flats borough, and I am so, so sorry. I was convinced that you were vulnerable, and your attempts to prove me wrong just… fell on deaf ears, I guess." She blinks back some more tears, then smiles sadly at me. "You were right, though. You're not vulnerable—not any more vulnerable than anyone else, at least. You can hold your own against anyone foolish enough to challenge you, and I am so sorry for ever suggesting otherwise— _and_ for being too obstinate to admit that my overprotectiveness was only hurting your pride. You are my son—my beautiful, _brave_ , competent, hilarious, ingenious _warrior_ of a son—and I love you so, so much. I am so, _so_ sorry…"

I suppress the smile threatening to compromise the menacing expression I'd adopted to scare the Equalists and swallow the happiness bubbling within me at the thought that Mom _finally_ understands. "It's okay, Mom," I say as I wipe tears of joy from my eyes. "I forgive you—and I love you, too."

She shoots me a small, grateful smile, and I start to walk over to her so I can give her a hug—but then I remember what's happened and what's happen _ing_ and turn back towards Da Zan. I have to deal with _him_ before I can deal with _Mom_.

"You're outmatched, Da Zan," I declare, raising my fists in a defensive position. "I've laid waste to all your cronies, and unless you get the _hell_ off our island, I'll take _you_ out, too."

"C'mon, Bumi, wouldn't you rather _talk_ first?" he responds, a self-righteous smirk on his stupid face.

"You're a terrible person, Da Zan," I growl. "I've got nothing to say to you."

"Oh, don't be like that, Bumi." He smiles at me—a phony smile if ever I've seen one—then shoots me a look, one eyebrow raised. "Do you recall me telling you that the only people who _truly_ believe in a cause are those who are willing to _die_ for the cause?" he asks.

I don't answer him, but the expression on my face must make it clear that I remember what he's talking about because he continues.

"When we first met, I was sure that you had the potential to become a true revolutionary. I mean, in the few short months we've known each other, Bumi, you've lied to those close to you, gotten yourself arrested, and risked your life several times—all in the name of our cause," he says. "I was convinced that you would lay down your life for our cause—but you won't."

"Yes, I would. I'm willing to die fighting for equality—but like I said before, Da Zan, you don't _want_ equality. You want _revenge_ ," I argue. "You don't spread justice; you spread hate. And I refuse to die dishing out vigilante justice against perceived enemies."

"You're wrong about me, Bumi," Da Zan retorts, "but that's alright… because _I_ was wrong about _you_. The Equalists had your back, and I _thought_ you had ours… but it appears that your loyalty is not to the Equalist movement, but to your bending family." He takes a step closer to me and smiles wickedly. "You won't die for us—but will you die for your family?"

I don't hesitate for even a second. "Of course."

"Well, then," he grins, "any last words?"

I turn to look at Mom again. "How long has it been since they chi blocked you?" I ask.

"What?"

"Answer the question, Mom!"

"Well… uh, a little over half an hour, I think? Forty-five minutes, maybe? I don't know."

"Okay." I breathe a sigh of relief. "Go down to the shore. You should get your bending back soon."

"But—."

" _Go._ You can't help me right now, and I don't want to risk any of you getting caught in the crossfire." I turn back towards Da Zan and narrow my eyes. "I can handle Da Zan. Just bring Kya and Tenzin down to the dock. If we're lucky, Dad and Aunt Toph will be here soon."

She opens her mouth to argue, then closes it, nods, and ushers Kya and Tenzin out of the living room and, eventually, out of the house.

When I hear the front door close, I turn back to Da Zan. "If… if your goal is to kill my parents, why didn't you just take out my mother as soon as you chi blocked her? Why did you wait until after I arrived to threaten her life?" I ask.

"I wanted you to come—and you'd have had no reason to come here if she was already dead," he explains, shooting me yet another devious smile. "You'd escape our little prison—I figured that. I also figured that since your dad was following you, he'd eventually track you back here—and when he does, we'll be able to get _him_ , too."

"You told Gun to tip me off, then?"

"Do you think I'd have a right-hand man so incompetent he would reveal our plans _accidentally_?" he asks. " _Yes_ , I told Gun to tip you off! I also told him not to chi block you when he captured you so that you'd be able to escape your little prison." He shoots me a curious look. "I figured you'd find a way to escape… although you figured it out quicker than I thought you would," he admits. "It doesn't matter, though. We were still able to lay waste to the White Lotus sentries and chi block your mother before you arrived."

"Did you plan this all along, Da Zan—to use me to get to my parents?" I demand, anger bubbling up within me, threatening to burst out in an explosive, violent way.

"No. This was not at all what I had planned, Bumi," he answers. "I had planned to recruit you, but only because you had the potential to be a valuable member of the movement. When you sided with your father over us, however, I realized that your loyalty was not to the Equalists; so I decided to use you another way. _This_ way."

"You're a terrible person," I repeat, my voice low as I spit out the words.

"You're entitled to your opinion," Da Zan replies, shrugging. "You can't deny that I opened your eyes, though," he adds. "You can't deny that my points were valid."

_He's got a point…_

The fact that he's right infuriates me.

I lunge at him, but he sidesteps me and I fall on my face. I scramble to my feet before he can chi block me, then bring my arms up in a basic boxing stance. The movement causes an intense pain to shoot through my probably-dislocated shoulder, but I ignore it. I'll deal with pain if doing so will enable me to land even _one_ nice, powerful punch on Da Zan's _stupid_ face.

I dance around Da Zan, dodging his attacks while initiating some of my own. He's also quick on his feet, though, and does the same; and as we circle each other, I notice something: he's got a wide stance.

He goes to attack me again, but as soon as Da Zan draws his fist back I throw myself to the floor and slide underneath him, between his legs. When I come up on his backside and move to chi block his stronger arm, he turns to face me. I adjust quickly, though, and deliver to him an uppercut that strikes him underneath his chin and sends him stumbling backwards. He falls to the floor after I overhand him while he's off balance, and I waste no time in climbing on top of him. The moment he lifts his head, I hook him in the chin.

I smirk, but when Da Zan pulls a knife out of his boot, I stop. He jams the blade into my thigh before I can scramble off of him, and an agonized cry escapes my lips before I even begin to consider stifling it.

I scramble off Da Zan and onto my feet, then glance down at the wound and see that I've already bled through the fabric covering my right thigh. _Whoa… that's not good_ , I think.

I yank the knife out, sure I can't spare the time it would take to ease it out, then use it to pin Da Zan's right sleeve to the wall on the far side of the room. "You're not the only one who enjoys playing with knives," I growl as I limp out of the living room and in the direction of the boys' dormitory.

When, after what seems like forever, I reach my room, I spot my sword laying flat on my bed. I slide it out of its scabbard, then return to the corridor to confront Da Zan. "Stop!" I cry. "I won't hurt you if you surrender."

"I'll never surrender," he responds.

"You leave me no choice, then," I growl, thrusting my sword in his direction. He ducks to avoid getting hurt, and as he ducks I run past him, back into the living room.

I jump onto the table I flung the first Equalist to attack me into, then resume attacking Da Zan. He dodges my attacks, then swings his leg against the legs of the table, knocking it—and me—over. I almost scream out in pain as I fall to the floor, but I stifle it. I don't have time to cry.

I shift just enough so that Da Zan misses the pressure point that would paralyze my good leg, then swing my sword around. He grabs it before it can behead him, and blood starts trickling down the blade. He winces as the blade cuts into his palm, but doesn't retreat.

I draw the jian back, then, before he can adjust, thrust it forwards, at his abdomen. He steps to the side to dodge the blade, but trips over an unconscious Equalist. While he's down, I scramble to my feet… and then start for the woods, figuring that if I can lead him deep enough into the bamboo forest on the far side of the island, he'll get lost.

I glance over my shoulder to check that Da Zan is following me and, seeing that he's gaining on me, quicken my pace. The ache in my thigh worsens, but what bothers me most is not the pain, but the heat. If I didn't know I'd been stabbed, I'd think I'd just stepped into the middle of a blazing fire, based on the intensity of the heat radiating up from my wound to my groin and down from my wound to my ankle.

It hurts to run, and the width of the trail of blood I'm leaving makes it obvious that I've got a serious injury, but I can't afford to stop—so I don't. I just lead Da Zan past the temple and the airbending training area and into the bamboo forest.

I duck into the first large thicket I see, then listen for Da Zan. It takes a couple of seconds for my heart to stop racing, but once it does I become able to hear the sound of grass and bamboo stalks crunching under Da Zan's boots.

I start walking deeper into the forest, swinging the jian into the bamboo stalks around me as I do so to make them collapse in front of Da Zan. He gets over the obstacle easily, though, and catches up to me. He jabs his fingers into a pressure point, causing my good arm to go limp, and I stand there, scared, for a second, until I regain my senses and jump out of the way of Da Zan's disabling fingers.

I can't help but feel horribly unstable as I stagger to my feet, what with a dislocated left shoulder, an aching and paralyzed right arm, and a lame right leg, and I don't have the energy to attempt to hide it—so I just turn around and sprint out of the forest. I dart past the airbending training area, half-dragging my injured leg past the fallen White Lotus sentries and towards the steps that, eventually, merge with the path that leads down to the dock. The stabbing pain that descending the stairs induces is agonizing, and when it spreads to my good leg, it's all I can do to not collapse on the spot.

_Who the heck is that?_ I wonder as someone calls my name—or, rather, as someone pronounces the letter B and I _assume_ it's my name. _It's got to be either… oh, no…_

I duck behind one of the bushes adorning the jagged cliffside and repeat to myself the words "I am not scared of Da Zan"—then, when he's close enough, I attack, sword at the ready. My dislocated shoulder can barely support the weight of my own arm, never mind the weight of my sword, but I've got enough strength behind my thrust to make Da Zan stumble—and, seeing my opening, I drop the jian and chi block Da Zan's left arm. He growls in pain, but ducks before I can regain enough strength to hit him again.

He grabs the hilt of my sword with his right hand, then aims it unsteadily at me. I take advantage of his ignorance about the weapon and knock him off balance again, and as he stumbles backwards I retrieve the one knife still in the sheath on my chest. I aim for the middle of his sleeve, but in the last couple of minutes my fingers have gone numb and my vision has started fading in and out… so I end up pinning the shoulder of his shirt to the cliffside.

_Well… that's good enough_ , I think, retrieving my sword and holding the point level with Da Zan's neck. "Do you give up yet?" I ask.

"No." He swings his legs and knocks me off balance, and as I fall to the ground he wraps his legs around my neck.

I grab hold of the jian, then use it to shove Da Zan's legs off my neck—and as soon as he releases me from his suffocating grip, I point the sword at his throat again. I guide it closer and closer to him, until the tip makes contact with the skin of his neck. It'll pierce his jugular if he so much as gulps, and he knows that as well as I do.

He glares at me, silently daring me to do it—to claim victory by killing him. I guide the jian a bit closer, then stop, recalling Dad's mantra: _all life is sacred_.

I'm about to let him go when the remainder of my strength disappears and I collapse to the ground.

"You put up quite a fight, Bumi," Da Zan chuckles, picking up my sword and pointing it at me, "but—."

He's interrupted by three of the elements.

I glance in the direction of the elements and see what I expected to: that the White Lotus sentries have regained their bending abilities and are attacking Da Zan from above.

"Bumi!"

I glance in the direction of the voice, but before I register whose it is, Mom, Kya, and Tenzin reach me.

"Oh, _spirits_ , Bumi, what hap—oh, never mind that! We need to get you to a hospital!"

"Mmnn…"

"I still can't bend, but don't worry, Bumi," Mom soothes. "Kya's going to start working on you, and Tenzin will get Appa… and we'll bring you to Kya Memorial Hospital." She shoots pointed looks at my siblings, then returns her attention to me. "Can you hear me, Bumi? Bumi?" She chokes back some tears. "Oh, please, _please_ , Bumi, just hang in there…"

"Mmnn… Mom…" I mumble.

"Yes, son? What is it?"

I glance from her to Da Zan and back again, but I can't make out much more than blobs of color. "It… it _hurts_ …"


	11. The Awakening

"Come _on_ , Bumi! Wake _up_ , big brother! _Please_?"

"Mmnn…"

"Bumi?!"

When I open my eyes, I don't recognize the figure beside the bed as Kya's so much as I recognize the fingers intertwined with mine as my sister's. "Kya?"

"Bumi!"

She climbs onto the edge of the hospital bed to give me a hug, then starts sobbing into my chest.

"Come on, Kya, stop that," I command, rubbing circles onto her back. "Why are you crying? Are you okay?"

"Am I okay? _You_ almost _die_ , and you ask me if _I'm_ okay?" she responds. She lifts her head up and wipes the tears from her cheeks, then smiles at me. "I'm so glad you're awake, Bu—oh, spirits, I have to go tell Mom! Mom!" she screams, hopping off the bed and running over to the door on the opposite side of the room. "Mom! Mommy! Mom! He's awake! Bumi's awake!"

When Mom enters the room a few seconds later, she's wearing a smile that stretches from ear to ear. "Bumi!" she exclaims. "You're awake!"

"Yeah, I am. Why is that so surprising?"

"You've been unconscious for over thirty hours, Bumi," she answers. "How are you feeling?"

"Well…" I rotate my shoulder and stretch my limbs, checking for pain as I do so. "My right arm isn't paralyzed anymore, and my left shoulder feels a lot better now. It's still a little sore, but it's okay."

"It was dislocated, but I healed it. How does your thigh feel?"

"It hurts, but not nearly as badly as it did," I answer. "Did you heal it?"

"We did what we could, then gave you some pain-relieving medication," she tells me. "Do you feel lightheaded or out of breath?" she continues. "Are you numb anywhere?"

"No. I just feel sore all over and…" I yawn, "tired. I'm really tired."

"Well, that's normal." She drags an armchair over to me and takes a seat, then grasps my hand in hers. "You lost so much blood, Bumi," she informs me. "You lost _most_ of it, in fact. When Da Zan stabbed you, he cut your femoral artery. We… we were barely able to save you." She blinks back the tears welling in her eyes, then runs her fingers through my wild hair. "We had a vascular surgeon fix you up as soon as we stabilized you, but when you didn't wake up after the anesthesia from your surgery wore off, some of the healers became concerned that you wouldn't _ever_ wake up. I didn't lose hope, though. I know how strong you are, my little warrior."

I close my eyes as she plants a kiss on my forehead, then open them again and smile.

"You saved us, Bumi," she adds.

"No, I didn't," I argue. "I collapsed. I had Da Zan beat, but when he was daring me to kill him, I hesitated—and during that moment of hesitation, I collapsed. I _failed_." I glance downwards, but quickly return my tired gaze to Mom. "I would've been killed if the White Lotus sentries hadn't gotten their bending back when they did. They saved me. And they saved _you_."

"The White Lotus sentries fell to the Equalists as soon as they arrived," Mom argues. "I would've been more than capable of holding Da Zan off until reinforcements arrived even if he had come after us after you collapsed, though, because my bending returned about a minute after you lost consciousness. I didn't _have to_ , though, because _you_ held him off. You held them _all_ off." She squeezes my hand and smiles at me. "You have no idea how grateful—or how _proud_ —I am of you, Bumi," she adds. "You risked your life—almost _gave_ your life—for me, Kya, and Tenzin. You're a hero. You're _our_ hero."

I snort derisively. "Y'know, that's the same thing Da Zan said."

"Bumi—."

I lean back against the headboard and, ignoring Mom and Kya, stare at the wall opposite me. "I'm sorry, Mom," I interrupt. "I never should have run off with the Equalists. I endangered our family, and I—."

"Stop," she commands. "Do you remember what I said before you told me to take Kya and Tenzin down to the shore?" she asks.

"You apologized to me," I answer.

"Yes, I did." She shoots me a serious look. "I apologized, and I meant what I said. I am so, _so_ sorry, and I don't blame you for running off with the Equalists. Your father and I weren't acknowledging your capabilities or giving you the respect you deserve, so it's _our_ fault that you turned to the Equalists in the first place." She raises my hand to her lips and plants a gentle kiss on its back, then continues. "I'm ashamed that it took me this long, but at last I see how capable, caring, courageous, observant, and _strong_ you are, Bumi. You are so much stronger than I ever gave you credit for, and I am so sorry for holding you back and for making you think that you're not good or strong enough. You are. You are an amazing young man, my son, and you continue to impress and inspire me."

_When have I ever felt this… respected?_ I wonder, smiling contentedly as I struggle to sit up to give Mom a hug.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demands, a smirk on her face as she lays a hand on my chest and guides me back down. "You're not allowed to leave this bed until I give you the go-ahead!"

"I just want to give you a hug, Mom," I whine.

"You can give me one when you regain your strength. You're still recovering from all the trauma you went through." She shoots me an indecipherable look. "Do you have any idea how hurt you were, Bumi?" she asks.

"I got an idea as soon as I saw the trail of blood on the island," I answer.

She starts to respond, but before she can, Aunt Toph and Tenzin walk into the room.

"Bumi! You're awake!" they cry, both uncharacteristically emotive.

"Are you sure?" I joke. "It sort of feels like I'm having a very, _very_ vivid dream."

"You're as funny as your uncle, kid," Aunt Toph replies, her tone sardonic.

"Oh, come on, Aunt Toph!" I exclaim. "You know Uncle Sokka and I both have _great_ senses of humor!"

I watch her roll her sightless eyes, then shift my gaze to Tenzin. He's staring at me, wide-eyed, as if he's both awed and incredulous. "Why are you staring at me like that, cue ball?" I ask.

"You kept your promise," he answers.

"Huh?"

"You promised Kya and me you wouldn't let the bad men hurt us, and you didn't."

"Oh…"

_Am I really awake?_ I wonder. _This_ has _to be a dream if_ Tenzin _recognizes that I protected him…_

"Do you want some food?"

_Hmm?_

"What?"

"Do you want some food?" Tenzin repeats. "Auntie Toph and I got some noodles from the hospital cafeteria. Do you want some?"

"Yes, please," I answer. "I'm starving!"

He hands me a box of noodles, which I hastily open. I make quick work of it, and within a couple of minutes I've eaten half the noodles.

"I don't know if you care," Aunt Toph starts, "but we arrested the Equalists that attacked Air Temple Island."

I drop my chopsticks into the box and, remembering that the reason I had felt so betrayed by Da Zan was because I had considered him a mentor, ask if I'm going to be arrested, too.

"Why would _you_ be arrested?" she responds.

"Well… because I… I was sort of Da Zan's protégé," I answer.

"So? I'm not going around arresting anyone and everyone with ties to the Equalists, even though that's what the Council and half the Police Department want me to do. I'm only arresting those who have committed crimes."

"Oh… alright. I'm glad." I breathe a sigh of relief, then glance up at Aunt Toph again. "Did you… uh… increase security in the Dragon Flats borough, by any chance?" I ask.

"Yes, I did," she answers. "I had to. When we raided the building Da Zan owns and was operating out of, we discovered that he had been keeping benders in jail cells in the basement."

"You mean there were more than the two he asked me to fight?" I ask, incredulous.

"What?"

_How many innocent people did he attack? How many innocent people did he hurt?_

"He…" _The Council was right. The Equalists are to blame for the missing benders._ "He _lied_ to me…"

"What are you talking about, Bumi?" Aunt Toph demands.

"He— _Da Zan_ —lied to me. He lied to me and everyone else," I explain. "When Uncle Sokka told me that the Council thought the Equalists were to blame for the disappearing benders, I thought the councilmembers were just being suspicious… but when I went to see Da Zan the other night, he tried to force me to chi block two firebenders he had kidnapped for 'training purposes' and…"

"And what?"

I shoot Aunt Toph a desperate look, even though I know she can't see it. "It's… it's so… so _fucked up_!" I glance at Mom and, since she doesn't seem to care that I just swore in front of Kya and Tenzin, continue. "I guess I have to admit that some Equalists are horrible, _terrible_ people who are hell-bent on ridding the world of benders… but the vast majority of Equalists, at least from what _I've_ seen, are good people who just don't want life to _suck_ so much." I blink back my tears, unwilling to let my family see me cry. "They created and joined the Equalists in the hope that, collectively, they could create a better life for themselves… but then Da Zan went and ruined it! He's turned the Equalists into a corrupt organization, and now nothing will ever get accomplished! Nothing will ever change!"

"I wouldn't say 'nothing,' Bumi."

I look up and see Dad and Uncle Sokka standing in the doorway. "Dad?"

He walks over to the bed, then bends down and gives me a careful hug. "I'm glad to see you're okay, son," he says, straightening up again.

"What do you mean?" I demand, eager to skip the formalities. "Why shouldn't I say that nothing will ever change?"

"Well, your mother and I realized that you and Sokka were right when you said that we'd turned our backs on the people of the Dragon Flats borough," he replies.

"And?"

"The Council voted today," Uncle Sokka picks up, "and construction of a hospital in the Dragon Flats borough will commence next week."

"Are you serious?" I ask excitedly.

"Yes," Dad nods. "It wasn't a unanimous decision, but we were able to convince the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation representatives to vote with us." He glances at Mom, takes her hand in his, and smiles, then turns back towards me. "I believe it was your mother's presentation that tipped the Council in our favor," he explains. "She's spent the last couple of weeks talking to healers all over the city, and about a week ago Sokka and I invited her to City Hall to explain to the other councilmembers that she'd already gotten the signatures of several healers who were willing to work in the Dragon Flats borough.

"It won't be a large hospital," Dad continues, "and only eighteen or so healers agreed to work there, but the shifts will rotate so as to ensure that at least six healers will be present at any given hour of any given day. In addition, a first-aid course—taught by your mother and some other healers from Kya Memorial Hospital—will be offered free of charge, so any Dragon Flats resident who completes the course will be able to work at the hospital as a healer's aide." He glances at the floor and grimaces, then returns his gaze to me and shrugs. "It's not much… but it's a start—and the Council has agreed to start taking a more active role in combating—well, 'combating' isn't the right word…"

"We have to do more than just _acknowledge_ the Equalists' existence," Uncle Sokka clarifies. "Yes, some Equalists do despicable things, but the Equalist movement wouldn't exist if there wasn't a concrete, visible disparity between the conditions in which most benders live and the conditions in which most _non_ benders live—and if we don't give that disparity the attention it deserves, we're going to have to deal with a horde of radicals." He glances at Dad, then turns back towards me. "We've got to engage the Equalists—but the Council is reluctant to do so, especially after everything that's happened. The Northern Water Tribe representative has been trying to convince the rest of the Council to change the Equalists' classification from 'political dissenters' to 'domestic terrorists' for a while now, and the attack on your parents' lives has driven the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation representatives into agreement. Aang and I were able to convince them to postpone the vote on the reclassification of the group, but if we don't placate the Equalists in the next couple of weeks, they're going to be reclassified as a terrorist organization." He takes a deep breath and shoots me a serious look. "We figure that conceding to some of their demands will placate them—and that, my brilliant nephew, is one of the reasons we are here. You had to have hung around the Equalists for quite some time these last couple of months to become a master chi blocker (as I've heard you are now), and if you spent a lot of time with them, you likely heard them talk. We're hoping you could give us some suggestions regarding other things we can do to pacify the Equalists."

"Well…" I start, recalling everything I've overhead—everything I've _agreed_ with—the past few months. "You could kill the bill the Northern Water Tribe representative proposed to criminalize chi blocking."

I glance at Aunt Toph, who's standing beside Uncle Sokka on one side of the bed, then shift my gaze to my parents, who are standing beside Kya and Tenzin on the other side. "You're in favor of criminalizing the technique, I know, and I understand why. It disables something you rely on—but please, Mom, Dad, try to see it from our point of view. It's a technique that evens the playing field for us when we're outmatched or outnumbered—when we're cornered and there's nothing else we can do. Yes, there will be people like Da Zan who will abuse it, who will use it to attack people, but that doesn't mean it should be criminalized. I mean, there are plenty of benders who use their abilities to attack people," I continue, countering their arguments before they can voice them. "The mere idea of criminalizing chi blocking is insulting because… well, is being a nonbender for an _hour_ really _that_ terrible? If not, then do you just want it criminalized so you can keep your natural advantage over us? Over nonbenders?"

"I see what you're saying, Bumi, but even if I agreed with you, the Council—," Dad starts.

"The Council can be unreasonable at times," I finish, even though I know that that's not _exactly_ what he was going to say. "I don't want it to be criminalized at all, not even if the penalty is just a slap on the wrist—but if it's going to be no matter what, at least add an escape clause to the bill before submitting it for consideration. The technique is meant to help nonbenders defend themselves against benders, so _please_ include a proviso that makes its use legal in cases of self-defense. I guarantee you'll have a riot on your hands if you criminalize it entirely. I mean, the Equalists gained a _lot_ of new members simply because of their stance on the morality—or _lack_ of morality—of the bill."

"I suppose that's a valid point," Dad concedes. He strokes his beard for a couple of seconds, then turns towards Uncle Sokka. "What do you think, Sokka?" he asks.

"You already know what I think about this subject, Aang," Uncle Sokka replies. "When this subject was last brought up in City Hall, I made it _very_ clear that I would vote against a bill criminalizing chi blocking. It's frustrating to not be able to move your own limbs, but it's not the sinister technique you and the other councilmembers think it is." He crosses his arms over his chest, then shrugs. "I don't think the other councilmembers will change their mind on this, though, so perhaps this escape clause could be a compromise of sorts that we can all agree on."

"I'm willing to make its use legal when it comes to self-defense," Dad opines. "I see no reason why the other councilmembers wouldn't be." He turns towards me and raises an eyebrow. "Okay, Bumi, I'll support that. Do you have any other suggestions?"

"Well…" I start, "what the Equalists—the _true_ Equalists, not those lunatics loyal to Da Zan—want more than anything else is a voice—a _loud_ voice." I turn to look at Uncle Sokka. "You're the only nonbender on the Council, Uncle—and even though you're the Chairman, you're not enough. The Equalists want the ratio of benders to nonbenders on the city's governing body to be more… well, more _equal_."

"I agree that the ratio should be more equal, but we can't do anything about that, Bumi," Uncle Sokka responds. "I mean, councilmembers are _appointed_ and hold the position until their death, unless they do something _really_ bad and are unanimously voted off the Council."

"… or they resign."

"Resign?" Uncle Sokka repeats, confused.

"What are you getting at, Bumi?" Dad asks.

"Well…"

"Why would someone resign? It's an honor to be appointed as a councilman."

"Yes, it is, but—."

"Spit it out, kid," Aunt Toph interrupts. "We ain't got all day!"

I turn to look at Dad. " _You_ can resign," I say.

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Well…" I begin, cowering a bit, "you're the _Avatar_ , Dad. You're one of the founders of the United Republic, as well as one of the most recognizable faces of what the Equalists call 'the bending establishment.' You're the most powerful person in the world, so if you resign—."

"I _can't_ resign, Bumi," Dad interrupts. "I'm the only airbender in the world, except for Tenzin—and _he_ can't serve as the Air Nation representative. He's five years old!"

"You're right," I agree. " _He_ can't… but an Air Acolyte _can_."

He opens his mouth to argue, but I continue before a single syllable can escape his lips. "If you were to resign and, say, appoint one of the head Acolytes as the Air Nation's representative… well, it would be a show of solidarity. It would show nonbenders everywhere that a nonbender who _didn't_ help save the world can rise through the ranks and be appointed to one of the most prestigious positions in the world. It would do so much more than just balance out the Council, Dad. It would show nonbenders everywhere that the Avatar believes in us enough to entrust to us one of the most important things to him: the representation of his almost-extinct culture."

"I… Bumi…"

"I get that you believe you're the person most qualified to represent the Air Nation… but there has to be at least _one_ Acolyte that you think can do the job, Dad," I continue. "I mean, the Acolytes study day and night, _every single day_! You've taught them _everything_ about your culture—more than you've ever bothered to teach Kya or me, in fact. They're as Air Nomad as you can get nowadays."

"You're forgetting one key fact, though, Bumi," Dad says.

"What?"

"All Air Nomads were airbenders. Traditionally, there's _no such thing_ as a nonbending Air Nomad."

_Ouch…_

"Aang!" Mom exclaims.

Dad's cheeks turn red from embarrassment. "Oh, Bumi, I didn't mean—."

"It's alright," I say, ignoring the twinge of pain in my heart. "It's alright. I'm aware that, traditionally, all Air Nomads were benders— _air_ benders. I get that that's how it used to be—but the key words there, Dad, are 'used to.' The world is different now; and unless a miracle happens, the Air Acolytes are as close to your people as you're ever going to get."

"Yes, but—."

"Can you _listen_ to me for a minute, Dad?" I growl.

He closes his mouth.

"The Air Acolytes aren't airbenders, and they weren't born into the Air Nation," I continue. "They _chose_ to leave behind everyone they loved and everything they had to _become_ a part of the Air Nation, though, and there is no greater sign of your gratitude—nor no greater honor you can bestow upon them—than to acknowledge their choice, their _sacrifice_ , by appointing one of them the representative for the Air Nation.

"You can't cling to this one tradition," I add. "You can't cling to this one tradition when you've thrown other traditions out the window. When you were growing up, Air Nomads were separated by gender. The females lived in the Eastern and Western Temples, and the males lived in the Northern and Southern Temples. But now, _all_ of the temples are inhabited by Acolytes of _both_ genders.

"When you were growing up, no one—Air Nomad or otherwise—married outside of their culture," I continue. "The United Republic embraces multiculturalism, though, Dad. You don't even have to look beyond your own family to see it. You went against Air Nomad tradition by marrying a woman from the Water Tribe, then held your middle finger up to it by _raising_ your children! I mean, _traditionally_ , Air Nomads let the monks raise their children; but you're actually parenting Kya, Tenzin, and me." I take a deep breath and, ignoring the heartache the words cause me to feel, add, "I don't know if you consider Mom, Kya, and me to be part of your people… but even if you don't, you can't deny that we _are_ a part of your _family_.

"You threw some traditions out the window so that you could raise a family with Mom," I continue, "so why do you insist on clinging to _this_ tradition? Why don't you let the Acolytes be a part of your nation, rather than a glorified fan club? They live where you lived, study what you studied, eat what you eat, raise the animals you raised, and preach what you preach."

"Yes, they do, but—."

"The airbenders are _gone_ , Dad," I growl, shooting him a look that tells him I don't appreciate being interrupted. "The Air Nomads died a long, long time ago; the Acolytes are your people now. Let them represent you. Let them represent _themselves_." I cross my arms over my chest and stare pointedly at Dad. "It's time for you to show the world that a new, more inclusive age is here… by revealing that the Air Nation is no longer a society of airbenders, but rather a group of people with similar beliefs. It's time for you to bring your culture, your _nation_ , into this era. It's time for you to resign and appoint an Acolyte to the Council."

When I finish speaking, I look around to see that everyone in the room is staring at Dad, waiting to hear what he has to say in response.

"You're very convincing, Bumi," he chuckles, after a couple minutes of silence. "You'd make an excellent councilman someday."

_I don't want to be a councilman. I want to be an officer in the United Forces Navy._

I don't respond, and Dad's expression becomes more serious, which causes Tenzin to tug worriedly on his robes. I watch as Dad lets go of Mom's hand to grab onto Tenzin's.

"You're right, Bumi," he admits once Tenzin stops fidgeting at his side. "When I was about your age, I altered some of the traditions associated with Yangchen's Festival to make it more inclusive and modern. I even allowed Sokka to sell meat in the streets!" He glances at Uncle Sokka and smiles, then turns back to me and adds, "and now it's time for me to alter some more traditions." He looks down at Tenzin and runs his hand along the boy's bald head, which isn't yet tattooed, and smiles sadly. "The Air Acolytes can keep Air Nomad _culture_ alive, but the Air _Nation_ depends on the existence of airbenders; and no matter how similar the Acolytes are to the old Air Nomads, they will never be airbenders. _However_ ," he adds, returning his attention to me, "all the other nations have a bending population and a nonbending population, and there's no reason why the Air Nation shouldn't as well.

"You and Kya aren't airbenders, but you have Air Nomad blood in you," he continues. "Tenzin _is_ an airbender, but he has Water Tribe blood in him." He glances down at Tenzin again, but quickly returns his gaze to me. "He will govern the Air Acolytes, repopulate the world with airbenders, and, eventually, train the next Avatar in airbending—and those responsibilities are shared by no one else in this world. He's no more Air Nomad than you or Kya, though—and if those weighty responsibilities are borne by someone who is only _half_ Air Nomad, I see nothing wrong with letting a nonbending Air Acolyte bear the responsibility of representing the Air Nation."

"You'll resign, then?" I ask.

"Yes, I'll resign. I'll start looking for a successor immediately, and I'll submit my resignation papers at the end of the month."

"I don't think you've ever made a decision so quickly, Aang," Mom jokes.

"I don't think I have, either," Dad responds, his voice tinged with laughter. "I'll meditate on this matter later, but I don't think I'll change my mind. We raised a cogent son."

"Did you think he wouldn't be? He's _my_ nephew, after all!" Uncle Sokka interjects.

"Yes, Sokka, he is," Dad replies, chuckling good-naturedly. "He takes after _all_ of us, though," he adds, turning to look at me again. "I didn't get a chance to tell you how proud you made me the other night, Bumi," he continues. "You advocated for _peace_ , rather than for violence, and you refused to fight those firebenders even after they attacked you. You didn't fight until it was absolutely necessary to do so; and even then, you used only enough force to disable." He glances at Mom, then returns his attention to me. "I heard about your final moments with Da Zan—about what you did or, rather, what you _didn't_ do. You didn't end it, even though you could have and even though he was daring you to—and I couldn't be more happy that you chose to honor the beliefs of my people and stand up for life." He gestures around the room, then smiles at me. "You are so brave, Bumi," he says. "You risked your life for your mother and your siblings. I'm so proud."

_He's… proud of me?_

"You taught me well, Dad," I say, wiping the tears from my eyes so as to keep my family from seeing me cry. "Well… either that, or you repeated 'all life is sacred' one too many times," I add, smirking.

I watch as a grin spreads across Dad's face and, as the room fills with laughter, lean back against the bed's headboard, content.

I've got a long road to recovery, and Dad still doesn't fully understand me, and Republic City's nonbending community is still viewed as inferior to its bending community… but I'm still content. I'm alive, after all, and I've convinced Dad that he and Tenzin aren't the only ones who can preserve Air Nomad culture. Oh, and the people of the Dragon Flats borough are in for a pleasant surprise!

The Equalists want benders and nonbenders to be equal, but we're not—and we're never going to be because the world is populated by millions of unique individuals. We all have our strengths, and we all have our weaknesses; and our goal should be to learn to live together not just peacefully, but also _successfully_. We can contribute to society by doing what only _we_ can do, and we can work cohesively together by using our individual strengths to do what others with different skill sets cannot.

This is what I'm thinking about as I look around the room, at everyone laughing—at everyone just _being together_ , reveling in each other's company.

We're a multicultural family, but right now, we're not Air Nomad, Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, or Fire Nation. We're not benders or nonbenders. We're just a bunch of people attempting to pull through a complex, difficult situation by getting the opinions of those we acknowledge know better than us and by leaning on each other for support.

We're all different—and that's _exactly_ why my family is so _beautiful_. We illustrate the benefits of unity by simply _being_ , and we serve as an example for not just the rest of the city, but also for the rest of the world.

_Do the Equalists have it wrong?_ I wonder as I look around at the people I love—at the people who love _me_. _I mean… maybe equality shouldn't be our goal. Maybe—just maybe—_ solidarity _is more important, more_ necessary _, than equality._


End file.
